


The Asset's Downfall

by MCUsic_to_my_ears



Series: Making Our Way Home [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: #coulsonlives, (why are there so many tags about Bucky that pertain to this story?), Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Natasha Romanov, Awesome Phil Coulson, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Brainwashing, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, Bucky Barnes-centric, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Panic, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Brainwashing, Physical Abuse, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Phil Coulson, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, even if it's not what's driving the plot, it's mostly just something i want to talk about at all hours of the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 26,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7643512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Age of Ultron, this story goes through Bucky trying to adjust to his new freedom in the Avenger's Tower. It takes a while, but the team and the weapon himself will learn how to live with someone with dissociative identity disorder and severe PTSD while they learn what it means to be safe. </p><p>Trigger Warning: PTSD, panic attacks, DID, mentions of torture, abuse and brainwashing (Man, I forgot how dark this thing was)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story exist within the realm of the others in the Making Our Way Home universe, but this one can be read separately and you really won't be missing out. The same goes with all of them, basically, but it is all one overarching universe, just not one long story.

The drums sped up, surrounding the Asset. Light seeped into his view, carrying other echoes with it. He was confused, this wasn't how coming out of the Freezer was supposed to feel. He wasn't sure if it was a malfunction on his part or on the Freezer's.

The Asset forced his eyes open at the thought, sucking in air quickly, but staying silent. He felt an odd sensation below him. Something soft, plush. He didn't dare move as he attempted to sift through the new sensory input, something that was normal for coming out of the Freezer. He wasn't sure where he was though, his memory was frazzled, which he considered to be more up Barnes' alley. He'd consult with his handler's in a moment. He blinked a couple times until his eyes came into focus. They were all he dared move as he studied the room. It's walls were a shadowed gray, a door bouncing light at the Asset broke the monotonous barrier. A single camera stayed fixed in the corner, watching the Asset closely. The room was empty other than the concerning surface he lay on. The lack of people made him nervous, not a single handler or scientist. Was he still with them? Or had a mission gone wrong? It was hard to tell, and he studied the room for more details. THe gray walls were supposed to be white if his memory was anything to go off of and the object beneath him was still _very_ wrong. The drums subsided as he made his analysis, only to begin again with more rigor as a knock echoed off the door, making his jaw stiffen, even if the noise was nearly inaudible.

"Hey, Bucky. Buck, you awake?" a voice called. The Asset ran the voice through his mind, trying to recognize it. It pinging in shaky areas of his mind. Bucky, the Asset searched the name for meaning, and found it in a similar area as the voice. He labeled it as an handler with a cover and nodded to the man, thinking that perhaps the voice outside the room was recognizing the body the Asset resided in, as it belonged to Barnes, which according to the file, his middle name was Buchanan. But that wasn't a mistake that the handler's would make. They were too smart. But then again, after he nodded, a sigh came from the other side of the door after a long pause, "Bucky you don't have to ask to talk, remember?" It appeared that the single camera wasn't being used. The change of scenery did have a chance of being a new set up, like the bank vault. He had no idea how long it had been since had last been in the Freezer with the others.

"Yes?" the Asset asked, waiting for instruction as he thought.

"Yes you remember or yes you're awake?" the voice prompted. The Asset searched his mind before responding to the handler, "Yes, it's awake." There was silence outside the door, the drums gone, the voice no longer breathing loud enough for him to hear, it was giving him time to do... something. He was unsure of what his (more than likely) new handler wanted. The Asset again waited for instruction. "Okay. That's okay. Can I come in?" the voice sighed. "Yes." The Asset shifted his body in preparation for the door to open, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, it generally caused a back hard to his face. Plus, this handler was tricky, trying to give the appearance of choice. The Asset would have to be careful with him.

The body attached to the voice pulled the door open, holding a tablet of some sort. It was turned off, but the Asset had a feeling he had been watching the footage from the camera, which unsettled him. The Asset studied the man. Blonde hair topped a controlled posture, the man wore simple clothing, and seemed to be unarmed. The Asset twisted uncomfortably, knowing he didn't have a weapon to offer him. He ducked his head down respectfully (or possibly strategically, the two seemed to go hand in hand for him).

His handler sighed, leaving the door open as he sat on the edge of the Asset's... whatever the Asset was on top of. He peered through the open door which revealed a light blue hallway. The Asset glanced away in confusion, where was he?

His handler cleared his throat and the Asset looked towards him, waiting. "Bucky, you remember where you are?" his handler asked softly, emotion crept into the back of his words. The Asset squinted his eyes, "No?" His handler caught his gaze and held it. "That's okay, Buck. You're in the Avenger's Tower. This is your third day here." His handler waited a beat, "Do you need anything?" The Asset shook his head, his needs weren't important. His handler tried again, "Are you hungry?" Another beat, another head shake. "Thirsty?" Beat. Shake. "Do you need to use the bathroom?" Beat. Beat. Beat. The drums came back. The words made him hesitate, although he knew what they meant, he usually got in trouble for answering with a yes and he was already taking too long and he just wanted a slap to put a button on the whole affair. The Asset looked to his handler expectantly.

"Yes bathroom?" he asked again, something new in his voice. The Asset nodded slowly, trying to calculate where the handler was going with this. Everything he'd said was stuff that Barnes took care of, maybe this handler was too new to know the difference. The word _yes_  echoed in his head, even though he knew it wasn't really his thought, he still nodded, trying to subdue his mind. "Okay. Let's go." His handler stood up and the Asset followed suit, following as he walked down the hallway. The Asset took account of his own clothes as he walked. He wore gray sweatpants and a black long sleeved shirt. He glanced off the walls, looking for a weapon to give his handler. Still nothing, not even a picture frame, which wasn't illogical.

His handler stopped before a door, similar to the one that blocked off the room he was in before. He opened it for the Asset. "I'll be right out here if you need something, okay?" The Asset nodded, lingering by the door. He looked at him for instruction. "Yes, Bucky," his handler said, looking disappointed. The Asset flinched as he softly shut the door, drum beats pounding again. 

When he finished, the Asset was met by his handler's expectant face. "Do you want to eat now?" The Asset shook his head. "Are you hungry?" The Asset cocked his head. The words seemed familiar, and again the thought ricocheted through his mind, but he wasn't sure how they were to be applied, just that he needed to keep it down inside his head. If the handler really didn't want Barnes (he wasn't asking) then he'd have to figure out what to do himself. Eating couldn't be hard if Barnes could do it anyways.

He heard a faint _Thank God_ under his handler's breath after he nodded, and he began leading him to a set of stairs further down the hallway. They went up three flights of stairs, until his handler pushed open a door. He paused in front of the Asset. "I think Bruce and Nat are down here, is that okay?" Unsure of who his handler was referring to, the Asset nodded. People, again, were Barnes' duty. His handler's shoulders relaxed visibly as he continued to lead the Asset towards the kitchen. The Asset had yet to observe any of the people his handler had mentioned as they walked through a community area. His handler glanced nervously at the Asset multiple times, but the Asset wasn't sure why. He continued to look for a weapon.

A women sat on the island in the kitchen, drinking what smelled like coffee, her red hair drifting over her face. When she looked up from the tablet she was watching, the Asset worked to identify her. He was rarely around women, so he knew it shouldn't be hard, but he usually saw them in the form of scientists and marks. And _why the hell wasn't Barnes on the surface? This wasn't the Asset's job!_  Thankfully, Barnes knew that there was something going on, and the Asset felt a loud ping inside his head of knowledge. He knew her name even before his handler nodded, "Nat." She nodded back, "Rogers. Barnes," she, Nat, greeted. She wanted Barnes, that was the issue. But the Asset had to hold out for the handler, to give the go ahead to let Barnes out.

"Barnes, you okay?" Nat asked. His handler, Rogers, turned around from the metal container he was peering into. The Asset stared at her, unblinking. He _- They want me, get out of my way-_  couldn't stop. 

His breathing picked up, shallow at first, and the drums came back. He froze, not wanting to disturb the handler and the woman- _Her name's Natasha Romanov, you know her now let up!-_  Something was wrong, that was certain, Barnes never had this much power behind him, and he certainly couldn't transmit thoughts. He was too weak.

"Barnes?" Natasha's voice was hard, leaving no room for question. The Asset was appreciative of that after the handler had been trying to lead him on. Maybe she was also his handler, however unlikely- _She could kill you with that tablet, dumbass_. He glanced around for a weapon before he again acknowledged the fact that she was female and more than likely a test. "Barnes, talk to me. What's wrong?"

His brain jumped to Russian, because that was the language he knew her from, except it wasn't solely that. But that was a language she would accept, and his mind was warring with itself and the Asset was good with Russian. _"Он знает вас."_ The Asset trembled, trying to keep Barnes (and even worse, the Soldier) at bay and trying to listen to their handler and the woman and figure out where they were and _what the hell is going on_!? 

The body slumped forward for a moment. Then perked back up. _It knows you,_  he'd said _._ Memories flooded in again, leaving me to sift through them, looking for the right one. The handler,  _Steve is that you?,_  looked up in surprise at the Asset's language change, causing me to stiffen, waiting for correction. I didn't know if the handler was really Steve and I didn't want to push it. I really just wanted to keep my head on for a couple more minutes because  _why the hell is everything so bright and non-lethal?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear up confusion, the Asset was raised by Hydra to be extremely dissociative, so he doesn't consider the body his own and actually thinks in third person. On the other hand, Barnes (another personality) thinks in first person and identifies the body as his own.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Вы_ _делаете. Вы помните , почему?"_ Natasha asked slowly, not wanting to rise alarm from me. _You do. Do you remember why?_ My mind searched for the right answer in all the thoughts flooding through. There were too many and they weren’t all mine, which made things infinitely harder.

"Красный. Он видит, красный и... а затем оружие. Всегда пушки." That was the best I could manage with all the bubbling thoughts. Anxiety ripped through him. _Me. Red. He sees red and... and then guns. Always guns._ Those were more the Soldier’s memories than mine, which was odd because I had forgotten that I was the only one that was put into the Chair. _"Это верно. Красная комната. Мы тренировались вместе в разы. Вы помните, совсем недавно, на мосту?"_

 _That's right. The Red Room. We trained together at times. Do you remember more recently, on the bridge?_ I found that at least one of us did and I informed her as much, still sifting through the other’s memories. _"Хорошо. Вы знаете, ваше имя?"_ she replied, her movements matching the pace of her words. I bit my lip, as I translated. _Good. You know your name?_ Rogers, Steve, looked between Nat and I, confused. I switched to English, trying to breathe, to think. "Yes," I answered, beginning to look for memories highlighted with Steve's name and face, most portrayed him fighting who I assumed to be the Soldier, since it was hand to hand. "Repeat it to me," Natasha instructed, not missing a beat at the language change. I did, distracted still by the memories of Steve that had more speech in them than normal. I felt that I was missing an important piece still, other than the parts where the others tried to kill him. "Is that your name or his name?" she continued. After a second of thought, I replied, "My name. It's my name.” I blinked a couple times, starting to obverse the room.

I looked back up at Natasha as she asked, "You remember your last few days here? You remember Stark, Barton and Banner, yeah?" I nodded, even if the memories didn't seem to be my own, didn't feel like I had experienced them. But I still remembered them, even if some of them were the other’s and not mine. I tugged at the hem of my shirt with my hand. His arm swayed heavily at my side. I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling a little out of it again, but only from the sheer amount of memories pulsing through me. Then the lights seemed brighter, the whirring of the modern machines around me louder, but not in an overwhelming way. It was more like everything was solidifying around me. I was more present in my own body, the most present I had been in a _very_ long time. "That's good," Romanoff affirmed, still studying me carefully. Steve cleared his throat, "You still hungry, Buck?" I jumped a little at the noise, pushing the other presence in my mind down. I zeroed in on Steve, trying to decipher his words as quickly as I could, but they weren’t addressed to me in anyway that I could see and my mind didn’t want to break them down and the Asset wanted me under. My breath hitched, but I caught it before it could further. "Yes?" I asked, words frazzling off at their ends in my mind as I tried to keep control over it all.

Rogers sighed, trying to keep himself calm, seeming to know where my mind was going. His memories that were slipping much easier into my mind indicated that Rogers, _Steve_ , was used to this. Steve lowered his voice, making it less threatening, having fewer words per minute. "Are you hungry, Bucky?" he adjusted. I swallowed, "Yes." That seemed to be the answer that he wanted. "Good. That's good. What do you want?" he asked. I looked up at him, panicked. "Я не забочусь," I cleared my throat when I realized I had reverted languages. "I don't care," I corrected, before Natasha could. Steve took a deep breath. "You had toast yesterday, remember?" I didn't, but I nodded anyways. "Do you want that again, or something else?"

"Toast," I replied immediately. Not out of want of the food, for I had none, but the want to please Steve. And that was the only real reason the Asset was letting me on the surface. Steve seemed so expectant, so excited every time I chose something. I didn't want to disappoint him, although I wasn't sure why since he wasn't my handler. "Okay, I'll make you some." He pulled out bread and clicked it into a small metal box. I flinched away at the noise it made. Natasha moved to help as Steve asked if I wanted to eat in the dining room. I nodded numbly, hating how weak I seemed as I choked down the Asset.

Once I was seated at the table, I said, "I remember pulling him out of the river," I offered as Natasha sat across from me. I contently noted she was armed. "That's good." They all said that a lot, good. I wondered if they would tell me when it was bad. "You remember anything after that?" I shook my head, "Not from…” I paused looking for the right words. "From my own head. A lot of what happened is there, I just wasn’t. And there are a few times blacked out completely." I found that being alone with Natasha made it easier for me to breath and talk. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing to Steve, but Natasha seemed different, even if they normally never let us around harmless women.

"That's understandable. You remember Dr. Samson's preliminary diagnosis?" I searched my head, "From the last two days?" I asked, trying to narrow things down. "Yes," Nat affirmed, "Two days ago, you were in the med bay with Rogers, Banner and Samson." Her words triggered a soft memory from that day, and I was pulled back into the Asset's memory.

 

Still groggy from the sedative that the archer had shot him with, the Asset carefully looked around. He had never been captured before, or at least, never on accident. The Asset usually wasn't supposed to get captured and he didn’t have any mission objectives floating around in his mind. His handlers were to die before the Weapon was compromised and he wasn’t seeing anyone he recognized. Something was wrong. As sound began to wash in and out of his ears, the Asset heard yelling from across the room. Two unknown marks were arguing, and the taller one with a lab coat dangling over a purple shirt seemed to be winning. The Asset worked to control his breathing as he identified the man from the bridge and another unknown mark also in the room. The Asset waited for the yelling to end, a door slamming and the losing man leaving to cap it off, before breaking through his restraints. He found there were none, and so his body dropped to the floor due to the extra force put into the movement. He blamed the drugs on his miscalculation, but it would be completely out of his system soon enough. He surveyed his surroundings once more, making note of possible weapons when the man on the bridge put a hand on him.

The Asset twisted away and knocked the man down with little effort. He worked quickly, pulling needles from the carts around him and poised to kill his captors with them. "Bucky, no," the man ordered. "We're your friends Bucky, we're not here to hurt you. Put the needles down." The Asset hurried to do what he was told and quickly sat himself back on the platform he was in before. If they were his friends, that meant they were his handlers. That the man on the bridge was his handler. That the bridge had been a test. The Asset lowered his eyes in wait for correction.

Nothing came.

The Asset looked up to discover a quiet conversation, which, even with his enhanced hearing, he was unable to hear. The man from the bridge and the man in the lab coat nodded at something the third man said, causing him to face the Asset. Immediately, he swiped the needles from the cart and offered them to the man in the green button down upon noticing that he was unarmed. The man took them carefully, and set them on a counter behind him. The Asset looked up confused. Why were none of his handlers armed?

"Mr. Barnes?" The Asset focused his thoughts, the name was similar to that of the previous resident of the Weapon’s body, the man could be mistaken, it wasn’t improbable, especially when it came to matters that dealt with the Weapon. "Mr. Barnes, why did you give me the needles?" the man asked.

The Asset quoted Pierce, “‘Arm your handlers so they can put you down if need be.’” The man squinted slightly, "Handlers? None of us are your handlers Mr. Barnes. Do you understand that?" The Asset nodded, remembering that handlers in the past had lied to them about who they were. He was expected to play along. "Mr. Barnes, do you remember anything of the last week?" The Asset searched his memory before shaking his head. "That's okay. You're friends here have been looking for you for a couple months now. A week ago you came out of hiding and their surveillance found you. They cornered you yesterday so that they could get you somewhere safe. You let them take you. You were very brave, Mr. Barnes."

The Asset didn't remember the last week, it was in a different memory bank, one that he normally would have access to. He never remembered backing down, but since these were his handlers, he didn't question it.

 

I was torn out of the Asset's memory when I felt someone place a hand on my shoulder. I heard the drums, and I saw the room tainted red. A woman let go of me and made her way across the table. I placed my head in my hands to focus myself. I hated being in his memories, I lost my place in the body and he normally took over. "You back with me Barnes?" she, Natasha, asked. I nodded, beginning to breathe again, "He said I might have something between DID and DDD," I answered her earlier question. “Maybe both.” I lifted my head to catch the tail end of her nod, "Right. So we have to watch out for you, make sure you're not going to be him. Remember him and remembering his experiences is okay, but being him isn't, right?"

I nodded, "Right." But there was something fundamentally wrong. The others, they were all apart of me. We protected each other, they had every right to be in control of the body, even if they didn’t always use it for the best of things.

I later ended up on the same floor I woken up on, told by Steve that I should explore a little as he went to get ‘something’. I was being tested, which felt comfortable, I was used to it, I liked it when something was this familiar after waking up dying on the streets.

I shuffle towards a door, peering inside the glass. I take one more glance around the hallway before entering the room. There's a large screen in there and shelves of books and posters stuck to the wall. It's too much, I get anxious, and when I get anxious I lose control and _he_ surfaces. I didn't want the day to continue with _him_ in control. They'd seen enough of him for a lifetime. I needed to keep him under control while I was with them, even if the Asset could do it himself easily.

I opened each door, the one across from the lounge was the bathroom the Asset had been in earlier (and failed at using because he never knew when to let me up), followed by a room more empty than the lounge, filled with odd (off?) blankets and pillows, then the room he had woken up in. I paced across to the hall and opened a door leading to what seemed to be Steve's bedroom. It was similar to the room he had woken up in, but it had a couple more knick knacks. Next came a locked room, the lounge again, which I didn't open and then a last locked room, the stairs and elevator across from the door. I looked up at the security camera for a moment, cocking my head as a question before I walked carefully to the room with the blankets, because that seemed to be the second best answer. I pulled lightly at the edge of my shirt once inside the room, glanced at the camera blinking in the corner and started to sift through the contents of the room.

I found that the blankets I had observed before we're filled with something heavy, possibly beans, and I saw that there was a small box in the corner filled with odd handheld toys. I picked a couple up, trying to figure out their use. There was a knock on the door, and I looked over expectantly, but it didn’t open. “Can I come in?” A male voice. I gave it a second before calling out, “Yes?” The door opened, revealing a man whose name eluded me, even though I know one of us had all met him within the days we had been here. I nodded to him in greeting, biting the inside of my cheek. I set down the string of plastic that I had been inspecting as the curly haired man offered, "It's called a tangle toy, I have a couple of my own." He waited a beat, "Is this room good?"

I nodded slowly, "It's sound proof?" I asked, having noticed it earlier. The man nodded, and someone supplied that his name was Bruce, that he had been with the needle room. "Yeah, there are a couple rooms like this in the tower.” He had a shadow of a smile on his face as if he was remembering something. “This one was put together for you by Steve and Tony after Washington. They'll be glad to know you like it,” he explained. I nodded, and looked at him to continue. He did, "I'm supposed to take you to go talk to Dr. Samson, you good with that?" I nodded again, and stood up, glad that Bruce understood my difficulty seeing past _good_ and _bad_. I followed him out of the room. I wondered if one of us explained it to him.

 ***

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose at Steve's remark. "No, Rogers, it's not that easy. Especially not if he’s not the dominant personality, and Barnes doesn’t seem to be.”

“His name is Bucky,” Steve said offhandedly, leaning up against the kitchen counter. Natasha pulled her noodles out of the microwave. “Did you ask him that?” she replied, her words rolling around in her mouth for a moment before being spat out, her mask impenetrable. “... No…” Steve replied, giving her a skeptical look. “But that’s still his name, Natasha.” She rolled her eyes, “I think I’ve done a bit more research than you on trauma victims than you, Rogers.” She kept it impersonal. “And a lot of people who have been brainwashed or have been prisoners of war for long periods of time, sometimes they feel like a separate person from before the trauma. Sometimes they prefer to use different names, you should ask him. When I met him, he told me to call him Barnes. Didn’t he say the same to Sam?” she countered with ease, buttoning off her response with a bite of noodles. “I’ve known him my whole life, Nat-” She cut him off, “But he’s lived seventy years that you haven’t. He’s lived a lifetime of hell, you can’t expect him to be the same person that you grew up with. His childhood is a distant memory even if for you they were less than fifteen years ago. You can’t just expect to jump right back to where you left off. Even if he never got captured by Hydra, he still went through all that shit with Zola. He’s not the same person, and he has the right to not be the same person.” It was hard to tell, but she seemed upset, and possibly personally affected by the issue. “You can’t just get rid of the other personality, Steve,” she says finally. “He is a valid person too and it’s up to the original personality if he still wants him, and neither Barnes nor Samson have indicated that Barnes doesn’t want to the Asset to stay in his head. It’s not up to you Steve, and honestly, it might not be up to Barnes either. He may be the _original_ personality, but he may no longer be the dominant personality. If he has two separate personalities. Samson has only worked with Barnes for less than a week, and he only has given us his preliminary thoughts. He could still have a depersonalization disorder, remember?” she asked, pulling herself up onto the counter where she had been sitting that morning and continuing to eat as she watched Steve formulate a response.

Before he could even attempt to rebuttal her, Barnes walked into the room cautiously, Sam following casually behind him, going straight to the fridge and pulling out a soda. Barnes still stood in the doorway, looking around the room. There was a brief silence, before Natasha said, “Hey, Barnes.” She got up and placed her bowl in the sink, running the water. “How was your meeting with Samson?” she asked, putting the bowl into the dishwasher, shifting Steve out of her way. The movement startled him into the conversation. “Because you went through a lot with- and we just want to make sure you’re getting the help you deserve, Bucky.” Natasha shot Steve a look as he finished his response to Barnes’s question. “But I don’t,” he paused, studying the ceiling as if it held the words he needed. “I don’t need help,” he decides on finally. “But you-” Natasha grabs Steve’s arm and pulls him out of the room before he can mess up anything else. “Not helping,” she muttered, “Let Sam handle this, he has years of experience with this. Hell, I have more experience than you, Rogers,” she added when Steve tried to protest. “Trust us, Steve, we’re not going to corrupt your friend anymore than they did. You can’t do everything here, okay?” Steve nodded after a moment, “Okay,” he replied, “Okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

I felt the hard gravel pressing against my back before anything else. Then the scent hit me, of stomach bile and oil and smoke. I swallowed down all my fear and tried to open my eyes. Sharp light struck me through the building’s sparse windows, and I felt my head burst in pain at the sensory input, waves of nausea drowning me. I slammed my hand against the hard flooring in attempt to ground myself. After a few moments of blocking out the others, I allowed myself to take stock of my situation. I was alone, feeling pulled toward the floor. I didn’t know where I was, but I could be sure that it had been a while since I had last been in control of the body, and that whoever had been in it before had been running it to the ground. Everything ached, but I knew that wasn’t why they had let me up. They were up because of the intense pain coming from our stomach. The others either didn’t know how to or weren’t very good at eating for some reason, and so it had always been my job on missions to get us fed. They wanted me to feed us, get us water, and then let someone else on the surface. But I knew I couldn’t do that. We were passed out in a warehouse for a reason, they’d gotten scared and run, and taken me with them, it was a side effect of sharing a body, we moved together.

Slowly, I forced myself up off the floor, and once on my feet, I felt my stomach rise in my throat. I choked it down and stumbled into the street. I blinked into the harsh light. It was a bit late into the day, possibly past noon, but I ignored the time and worked to study my surroundings. The streets were unfamiliar, and the vibe of the city was different, the way people walked and spoke was different. I could tell that we weren't in New York anymore. I found a window as I scurried down the road and studied myself. I looked much closer to how the body used to be when we were still with Hydra. There was a chance people would recognize me, especially after Romanov’s info dump. I waited a couple more second before I got my bearings, and soon I was sliding in and out of the morning foot traffic of the city.

Once I had something to set my mind to, in that case lifting a baseball hat, sunglasses and cell phone from other men, all the original panic and uncertainty drifted back to their compartments in my mind. I passed a bank, and glanced at the time display on its sign. 2:45 in the afternoon. I took a slow breath to calm myself down as I read the date. It had been three weeks since I had last been on the surface. Three weeks that they had been letting us starve, to die of thirst. I doubt they even slept for more than a hour at a time. They didn’t know how, not without the Freezer and a slew of drugs. I tucked those thoughts away for another time, and ducked into a back alley a moment after I had borrowed a phone. It had taken longer to find than the hat- which held the mascot of the Chicago Cubs, clueing me in on our location- and glasses, which were more to hide away the probable bags under my eyes and block out the sun to help calm our pounding headache than disguise me.

I had needed a phone that had GPS in it, but wasn’t a smart phone. It hadn’t taken long for me to narrow down the list of possible phones, they’d been drilled in my head by the trainers since the devices had come out, but finding someone who still used a Benefon ESC in the twenty first century was much more difficult. Eventually, I found a woman still holding onto an simple flip phone from 2003 and made fast to take it out of her pocket after she sent a quick text. I figured the others could get her something better after they came and found us. Once I had everything I needed, and had slipped into a back alley, all the emotions I’d tucked away started back in on me. My fingers trembled as I opened the phone. I stared at the numbers for a moment, before typing in one that I knew was right, even if no one had ever told me the digits to my face.

I held the phone to my ear, rocking a little on my feet as it connected, the dialing noise setting me on edge. “Tony Stark’s phone, the owner of which is wondering how in the hell you got this number,” a cheery voice answered. My knees collapsed a little under me at his words. “I- I.” Words escaped me and I was having trouble breathing, all the pain that I had ignored from before was back and weighing me down immensely. I pressed further against a wall, trying to stay hidden. “Barnes?” Tony asked in disbelief. “I need you to tell me where you are,” he ordered. I could hear typing on the other end. I forced myself to remember the signs I had seen. “I’m- I’m near Chicago,” I muttered, eyes wide at how wounded I sounded. “In between Dewey and Darrow Avenue. I- I don’t,” I tried to get out, but I could feel the weight coming down on my, tears threatened at my eyes. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t break down, I had to get everyone to safety. That’s why they had let me up, whether they liked it or not, I was the one that did the person stuff, I couldn’t let the others down now.

 ***

I stiffened at the sound of my personal line ringing. “JARVIS, who is it?” I asked, wondering if I could ignore it. “Caller unknown. 847-893-6434 is the number, sir.” I cocked my head, but had him put the call through, “Tony Stark’s phone, the owner of which is wondering how in the hell you got this number,” I announced, not stopping my work. Since Barnes and company had taken off (again), Steve had been getting all reckless (again), so I had to up the bullet proofness of his armor (again). So I didn’t really have time for random girls that had gotten the number from me while I had been drunk a million years ago (last week). “Barnes?” I asked when I heard his voice.

I knew it was him, partially because he could barely get his first word out, but also, all the alters had different voices, or at least different ways that they used the voice. Steve had been the last to catch onto that one, but the guy wasn’t exactly great with the whole mental health scene, in my opinion. But those thoughts passed me by as my fingers flew over the keyboard, hacking into the cell tower to triangulate his call. Then I typed into my JARVIS command box, “Get Steve into a Quinjet, and load the coordinates ASAP,” as I gave the reigns over to JARVIS to continue the hack. All this happened as I told the panicked ex-assassin, “I need you to tell me where you are.” He was silent until just after I had gotten into the cell towers, then he tumbled over his words, “I’m- I’m near Chicago,” he answered shakily. He sounded haunted as he continued, “In between Dewey and Darrow Avenue. I- I don’t,” he cut himself off as I ran to the elevator. “Okay, thank you. You’re doing fine. You’re going to be okay, I promise,” I reassured him, running my hand over my jaw, “I just need you to stay on the line, okay? Can you do that for me, Barnes?” I asked, trying to keep the atmosphere calm. A shaking breath carried through the line, “Yes,” came his answer. “Awesome. That’s really awesome, got it? You’re going to be okay, Barnes. JARVIS is narrowing down your location now, we will be coming for you in a couple minutes, okay?” A pause on the other line, nothing other than heavy breathing came over the line. “You still with me Barnes?” I asked. The was a strangled cough, then, “Yeah,” was whispered to me. I was about to say more when the elevator doors opened. Without a word, Steve took the phone from me. “Bucky?” he asked, “Bucky are you okay?”

Today was one of the rare days that Steve was actually at the tower. Before Barnes had been found, Steve had mostly been staying in his apartment in DC, and sometimes even in S.H.I.E.L.D. barracks if he’d been on a mission for them recently. But me and Bruce had convinced Steve that Barnes would be safer at the tower, since we had the best equipment and researchers and doctors and really everything. Steve had agreed, had even helped plan out a floor for the man. So Steve agreed to move in too (I was sure Bruce had something to do with it) and had taken vacation time with S.H.I.E.L.D.

The elevator opened up, revealing the helipad. I led Steve towards it as he frantically asked his friend question after question about his well being (which Wilson _(When did I let him move into the tower again?)_ would probably chastise him about later). JARVIS already had the jet fired up and ready to go. I jumped into the pilot seat and we were off, flying west to Evanston, Illinois.

“Bucky, do you know what happened?” Steve asked, still on the phone. JARVIS already had the jet on autopilot, since I barely knew how to fly it. I had only been sitting up there to give Steve some privacy. At the speed we were flying, we’d been to the city in less than thirty minutes. I got out of his seat and mouthed to Steve, “Going to set up bench.” Within the first week that Barnes had been missing, Bruce had placed a couple of the items from the ex-soldier’s panic room into the jet. I pulled out the weighted blanket from that and placed it on a chair, adding a couple more sensory items that Bruce had left there on the floor next to it. I waited for Barnes to finish what he was saying, before I took the phone out of Steve’s hand. “Hey, Barnes. This is Tony again. We’re about twenty minutes out, okay?” I waited for him to indicate that he understood before continuing, “I get that you haven’t been on top for a while, but do you think that the others ate or drank anything while they were on the surface?” I asked, as calmly as I could. After a moment of collecting himself, Barnes replied, “I, um, no. They don’t… do that,” he stuttered. “When we get you back onto the jet and when we’re heading back to the tower, do I have your permission to hook you up to an IV, so that you’re getting some nutrients into you?” Bruce had taught me a while back how to do a bunch of basic medical procedures so that if Bruce was too exhausted from Hulking out, I could help.

There was no response from Barnes. “I’m going to give the phone back to Steve, we can figure it out when we get there,” I reassured him. “No, no. I- you can do whatever you need to. They didn’t…” he trailed off, and I gave Steve the phone back. I held up both hands to indicate when we were ten minutes out from a helipad near Evanston, JARVIS having already confirmed so that we could land there. Slowly, I started counting down from there, and Steve managed to simultaneously get more anxious and calm. I drafted a text for our Avenger’s group chat, because, yes, we did have one, and sent out, “We located Barnes, Cap and I are orw there.” Then separately, I texted Bruce, “Get med bay ready, he doesn’t sound good.” He replied a few moments later, “Be careful.” I smiled a little, because of course Bruce would say something like that, but shook my head a little as I though about the implications of why Steve and I would need to _be_ careful.

I helped JARVIS pull the plane down onto the landing pad on top of a hospital maybe twenty miles from where Barnes’s call was coming from. I sent Steve ahead as I brushed off the crew at the top of the hospital and a couple minutes later Cap and I were hitting the street. I took Steve’s phone from him and JARVIS was sending updated GPS of where Barnes was and I guided Steve along. About ten minutes later, we were on Darrow Avenue.

I could barely keep Steve from sprinting as we turned into the alley we assumed Barnes was in. “Bucky?” Steve called, “Bucky?!” I pointed towards his figure and took the phone from him. Barnes allowed himself to drop to the ground, shaking heavily. He started hyperventilating, but Steve barely slowed his stride to get to his friend. “Cap, you need to stop, he’s not-” Steve lowered himself in front of Barnes, “Hey, hey Buck, you okay?” he asked. I followed suit, “Barnes, I need you to breath with me, okay?” I remembered what Bruce had taught me about calming people down from panic attacks, “In, one, two, three, four, five…” I droned. Barnes slowly began to listen to me, and he began to calm down, following my breathing patterns. Within fifteen minutes, Steve and I were helping him up to his feet and leading him back to the hospital. “Hey, Barnes, do you want to receive some medical attention here, or fly back to the tower and have Bruce and a couple others help out?” I asked. Barnes shook his head, “Hey, one or two,” I didn’t realize how many ‘Stop Bruce From Freaking Out’ tricks I’d been using until then. “Get help here, or New York?” Steve gave me a confused look, but didn’t respond. “Two,” Barnes whispered. “Okay,” Steve added, “We’ll go back to the tower.” We entered the hospital from the back entrance, and I pushed my way through the masses of doctors and nurses who wanted to get their hands on Barnes, who was stumbling around blindly. “We’re taking him to another hospital in New York,” I promised them, “I have a team with our plane upstairs.” They let us pass, and once JARVIS and I had the jet in the air, I went back to where they were sitting.

Barnes had the weighted blanket wrapped around himself, and he was still shaking slightly. He looked about to pass out as Steve rattled off questions and comments too fast for the drained ex-killer. “Steve,” I deadpanned, “Shut up.” Once he did, I continued, “Barnes, will you let me hook you up to an IV so that you can get some water and nutrients in you, then can go to sleep. Is that okay?” I asked, working to make eye contact with him. A couple seconds passed, and I couldn’t tell if he was weighing the pros and cons or just trying to understand the words still. Finally, he nodded. I gave both him and Steve a brief smile before I got into a cabinet and put in an earpiece. JARVIS started walking me through how to mix the solution properly before I hooked it all up. “Hey, Barnes?” His eyes flickered up, but landed back on his hands, which clutched each other loosely. “Are you ready for me to put in the IV?” He nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. “I’m going to touch your arm, okay?” He nodded again, and I moved slowly, not wanting to startle him. He flinched when I made contact, but didn’t pull away. I slid the needle into his vein and started the drip.  JARVIS and I had decided to put some sedatives in it too, to at the very least get him to calm down a little. But he fell asleep in five minutes, slumped forward in his seat.

“He’s going to be okay, Steve, he’s just sleeping,” I assured the soldier. He shook his head, “But what if he isn’t? What if Samson can’t fix him and he runs away again and the next time I can’t find him because the Asset is keeping him captive? Then what, Tony?” he asked, taking a seat opposite Barnes. “Then we accept it and move forward,” I told him. “You have to remember that Barnes can take care of himself, that the Asset can take care of himself. They’re going to end up okay, with or without you, Steve. You have to accept that and decide if you’re going to help the situation, help you friend, help the personality that his brain was forced to create or are you going to hurt them both and hurt yourself in the process.”

Steve was silent.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Okay.” There was nothing left to say. JARVIS and I landed the plane, and once the doors opened, Bruce and Sam rushed in, pushing a stretcher between them. We all got Barnes onto it and moved him to an elevator. About twenty minutes later, everything was set up and Sam had disappeared momentarily. Bruce pulled me into the hallway, leaving Steve with a couple doctors that I’d hired to live and work in the tower after a few too many of nights Pepper finding me passed out on the roof still in a Iron Man suit. “Are you okay?” he asked. I smiled, “Oh, yeah, I’m awesome. Never been better, but that’s not why you’re asking,” I studied him. “What is it?”

“What happened to them?”

 ***

“Stark just texted,” Clint gave Natasha a look, “They found Barnes, taking him back to the tower now,” he informed her. “He say how?” she asked. He shook his head, before remembering she couldn’t see him, since she was down on the city street. “No,” he answered, shooting a couple of the mercenaries that was holding Natasha under heavy fire. “I’ll update you when updates in the group chat,” he promised her, watching as she rolled out of the way, firing her handguns at the thirty or so men closing in on her. He fired off a few arrows that exploded on impact to help her out. They cleared the area and got onto a flight to Malta in order to transfer the intel with as few ruling powers as possible being able to interfere with where it went. Still in the air, Bruce sent out another text in their group chat. “Barnes is home, unconscious, just so everyone knows. He was near Chicago, and hasn’t been on the surface for a while according to Steve. Assuming Asset got them there.”

Natasha glanced up from her phone, “You think those messages we kept intercepting were his?” she asked. Clint shrugged, “It could help some of the decoding that we still need to do,” he pulled the messages up on his phone, even though he’d memorized them a while back, “This one would be referring to Barnes if we’re saying that they’re coming from the Asset.” She nodded, “Then who’s the third party here?” she asked, scrolling down. Clint shrugged, “Could be anyone. Do you think he holed up with someone in Illinois?” She thought for a moment, “He would’ve been easier to track if he was interacting with someone else on a regular basis, you know that,” she argued. A flight attendant walked past and Clint waited for her to get out of listening distance, before replying, “We don’t know how they found him,” he replied, “If he was with someone, that person could’ve been just as good at keeping off people’s radar as say, us,” Clint supplied. She pursed her lips, but turned away. He let it pass, leaning his head back against the economy class seat and allowing himself to fall asleep.

A day later, they had sent off the intel and were exiting a helicopter in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. After an hour long debriefing, the pair had conned their way out of having to go to medical for a ‘check up’ and were taking a SUV to the tower. Natasha got off the elevator on her floor, saying something about taking a shower. Clint continued up, pressing the button that would take me to the Avengers common floor, thinking of how much he wanted coffee when he’d gotten to Malta.

The doors slid open, and he breathed out a sigh of contentment. He was home. Noise washed over him as he began to process the room after taking in the moment, the feeling first, something he rarely allowed himself, he heard the news playing inside the living room. He trailed toward it, finding Bruce reading some blueprints, Clint assumed for Tony. “Hey,” he said, dropping down onto the couch next to the physicist. Bruce shifted the blueprints out of the archer's line of sight, but he didn’t really try and see what the other man was attempting to hide. “Welcome back,” Bruce smiled, but began studying his friend softly, ”When was the last time you ate?” Bruce asked, because that was Bruce, acting as the team’s parent, sometimes more so than Steve acted as their den mom. Clint shrugged, “More than half a day ago, but I’ve been busy,” he answered. “I’ll make some pasta,” Bruce replied, rolling up the blueprints and pushing them away. Clint followed him into the kitchen and sat at the island, watching as Bruce began to boil water. The popping of bubbles and noodles pouring into the pot soon after were the only sounds surrounding them, before Clint asked, “So how’s Barnes?” Bruce glanced to the elevator for a moment, before responding, “He’s doing better. The Asset woke up a couple hours ago and has been talking with Samson pretty much since then. He was apparently trying to contact Hydra while he was gone.” Bruce shook his head as he handed Clint some cheese and a grater. “I don’t know. Barnes should be on the surface soon enough at the rates they normally switch out,” he added as he put some bread into the toaster.

Clint bit the inside of his cheek, “Yeah, Nat and I, uh, saw those messages,” he decided to disclose, “When the Asset was on the run, was he with someone?” Bruce’s brow furrowed, looking over from the coffee he was making. “Not that I know of… Why?” He began making tea for himself as Clint answered, “There’s a third party mentioned several times in them, I was just wondering,” he explained, pouring himself a mug. Bruce glances up and over, pressing two plates towards where Clint had been sitting. “I mean, there’s always the possibility,” he laughed a little and shook his head. “He, the Asset, could be, uh, I mean he clearly-”

“Just spit it out, Doc,” Clint interrupted, handing Bruce an empty mug for his own drink. “Right, uh, if the Asset was able to keep Barnes down for the past three weeks, then it’s not… completely unlikely that he’s also keeping down, controlling a third, possibly even fourth, personality,” he admitted, not looking up, and simply pouring his tea. “But I feel like Barnes would’ve told Samson by now, and Samson would’ve told Steve who would’ve told us,” he continued, shaking his head again. “I guess,” Clint muttered, suppressing a yawn. The two fell into a tired silence, eating the pasta slowly, thinking to themselves.

Suddenly, Bruce jumped to his feet, pulling his plate and cup away with him and rushing off the elevator with a furrowed brow, indicating that he was thinking deeply. Clint gave him a confused look, but Bruce didn’t see it as he swept up the blueprints from the coffee table, balancing it all as he rode up to what Clint assumed to be the labs on the top ten floors. “Well bye there friend-o,” Clint muttered, “Hope whatever you’re up to is fun,” he added, finishing up eating and taking his coffee up to his room and crashing finally after his long weekend.


	4. Chapter 4

“What are they doing in there?” Clint asked, staring through the glass doors that led into the lab as he and Natasha walked by, heading to the elevator at six o’clock the next morning. “I have no idea and I think I’d like to keep it that way,” she smiled slightly, but Clint could read the deeper emotion on her face, in that case, mischief which crinkled, barely visible, beneath her eyes. Clint laughed softly, as they rounded the corner, passing a very distraught super soldier, this time, one that hadn’t been brainwashed by an evil organization. Steve raised a hand in greeting before continuing on, leaving the ‘Spy Twins’, as Tony called them, to continue their sweep of the building, something that scared those that worked on lower first floors the first time they’d done it after a mission. They’d soon gotten used to the antics of working in the same building as a PTSD ridden superhero team, and even welcomed Clint whenever he let them catch him in the vents.

Steve glanced at his phone again to make sure that he wasn’t late, Tony had texted him the day before (or rather at eleven fifty at night, he’d seen the text that morning before his run) to meet him and Bruce in the lab at six fifteen, that it had something to do with Bucky. Steve tried not to let himself get too nervous, but despite that, he felt the excess energy that he couldn’t get rid of during his run coursing through him. The lab doors slid open, which was odd, because JARVIS usually had to check in with Tony or Bruce first, but he supposed that they were expecting him. As he walked in, he saw Bruce slumped over on his desk and Tony poked him, coffee cup in hand. “Brucie, he’s here, get up,” the engineer announced. “Wha-? Oh. Right,” Bruce ran a hand through his hair as he suppressed a yawn. “Hey, Steve,” he offered. “We have an idea about Barnes’s floor layout,” he smiled uncomfortably, motioning to a holo-board. “One side of the floor is the Asset’s space and the other half is Barnes and then this front area here is like our common floor, but for just the two of them,” Bruce explained, moving the images around for Steve’s benefit.

A couple minutes later, after Bruce had further articulated the floor’s layout, the soldier asked, “So you don’t think that Bucky wants to get rid of the Asset?” His brow furrowed as he studied the board, as if him looking at it more intently would make all of his problems go away, or at least make sense. “Steve,” Tony began, “Barnes isn’t even the dominate personality, you have to know _that_ by now, even if Samson hasn’t been so upfront about it. And you can’t just pretend that the Asset _isn’t_ a part of Barnes. Plus, look at how cool this common room set up is!” Tony quickly changed the subject, trying to distract his worried friend from rubbing off on him or Bruce. Steve’s flicked off of Tony’s face and onto the holograms again, and then replied, “I- I suppose you should have Bucky look at it before you do anything.”

As an afterthought, he added, “And the Asset.”

Tony opened his mouth to comment on how progressive, when JARVIS interrupted, announcing, “Sir, there are S.H.I.E.L.D. ops vans en route to this location, estimated to be seven minutes away in this traffic.” Steve’s blood ran cold, “What?” he asked, turning to look at Tony. “J, you know why S.H.I.L.E.D.’s coming out to play?” the engineer asked, slowly filing away a couple projects that sat on his desktop. “Unknown, sir. But I do believe it best to move Sergeant Barnes to a safe room.” Bruce glanced up at the ceiling at the mention of one of his rooms, and Tony turned to him, “You wanna go corral him Doc?” he asked hopefully. Bruce shrugged, “Not like the Other Guy’d be more helpful in the lobby.” He smiled at his own joke, before going off into the hallway.

“JARVIS, you know what entrance they’re going to come through?” Steve asked, ever the strategist. “No, sir.” the AI replied, a moment buffer between their words as his systems ran through data. “J, tell the Spy Twins what’s up and to get their buts down to the lobby.” Tony paused, “The lobby’s a good spot right, that’s the only way to the elevators and unless they want to do some building jumping like Stevie over here-”

“The lobby is an ideal place, sir,” JARVIS interrupted, shutting down his creator’s anxious babbling. “Okay Yeah, that’s good,” Tony muttered. “You wanna suit up Stevie, or-” Steve shook his head, “We can’t get into an actual fight. Not with humans and with humans around. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. You’re always right. Let’s go play chess with S.H.I.E.L.D, yeah?” Tony asked, nodding towards the door. “Yeah,” Steve agreed.

Down in the lobby, they discovered Natasha and Clint already lounging, having cleared out those that worked in the tower for a couple floors. “Hey,” Natasha said as Clint remarked, “JARVIS said that our peeps are on their way, “ to Tony.  “Your… peeps. That’s one way to put it,” Tony quipped, “But yeah, ETA?”

“Three minutes, sir,” JARVIS filled in the blank. “Yay,” the engineer rolled his eyes, “You two have anything you’d like to share before they get here? Like why they’re coming, and why they’re bringing in like fifty agents and why I didn’t know about this sooner,” he supplied. Clint shook his head, “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been kinda touch and go with the intel they’re giving us. Trust me, we knew what was going on, it wouldn’t have happened.” Natasha nodded in agreement, but didn’t comment as the lobby doors slid open and twenty agents in full on SWAT gear surrounded the four Avengers.

“So what bring you here at this time of morning?” Tony asked.

 ***

The elevator stopped on Barnes’s floor, and Bruce stepped out into the empty hallway. He knocked on the door of the panic room he and Steve had worked together to build its interior. “Hey, are you in here?” he asked. There was a pause, and Bruce felt the seconds ticking by, the S.H.I.E.L.D. vans getting closer. Then, “Yes.”

“Can I come in?” Bruce asked, stepping back a little as if the added space would act as a buffered to his permeating anxiety. Another pause, followed by a second, “Yes,” from inside the room. Bruce pulled the door open, and saw the Asset sitting on bean bag chair holding a knife. “You going to use that?” he asked. The Asset shook his head, no longer seeing the need to be audible now that the physicist was in the room with him. “Will you give it to me?” Another shake of the Asset’s head. “Will you go with me to a safe room? There are some people coming that might want to see you that we don’t think you’ll want to see. If you do, we can set up something, but we want you to get some more information.”

“Okay.”

“So are you going to come with me?” Bruce asked, trying his best not to order the man, because Samson had given a lecture earlier that week, directed mostly at Steve and Tony, on how to have better conversations with both personalities. The Asset shook his head, “No,” he answered aloud, making it clear that he was serious through the single syllable. “Can you tell me why?” he reattempted, trying to keep his fingers from checking his phone, but to no avail. He had a text from JARVIS, _“ETA 3 min”_ it read. “Will you let me talk to Barnes?” The Asset shook his head, “He does whatever you say,” he explained, his fingers clenching around the hilt of the knife. “You going to use that now?” Bruce asked. Another shake of his head, “You going to force Barnes out of my head?” This time, Bruce shook his head. “It’s your choice, it’s always your choice. We’re just doing the best we can to advise you as you make those choices.” There was a brief silence, before the Asset interrupted it. “You can talk to Barnes. Don’t let him have the knife,” he ordered, before his body slumped over. Bruce took the moment to check his phone again, the agents entered the garage as life refilled their body. A few more seconds blinked by, then Barnes dropped the knife completely. Bruce picked it up without a word. “Will you come with-” Bruce would’ve finished his sentence, but Barnes was already nodded. It was hard for Bruce to remember that Barnes sometimes acted with less autonomy that of the Asset.

“We’re going to the safe room a couple floors up, okay?” More nodding, before both of them were lifting up to their feet and out the door. JARVIS sped the elevator three floors up to Bruce’s, and the biometric measures popped the door into the Hulk-Out room open immediately. “Right in here,” the scientist directed. They both ended up sitting in wait. “Dr. Banner, do you wish to view the lobby security cameras?" JARVIS asked. Bruce nodded, "Yeah, thank you," he answered, pulling out his phone. The footage popped up and he heard an agent say, “... sights on the Soldier.” Bruce’s brow furrowed, “JARVIS, what’s the context?” he asked as he watched Steve and Clint sprint toward the elevator, Natasha and Tony shifting toward each other as the fifteen or so S.H.I.E.L.D. agents encircled them even more. “JARVIS?” Bruce repeated when he didn’t get an answer from the AI. “Sir, there are currently three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents setting up a bomb outside the door.”

Bruce saw Barnes stiffen next to him, but was busy trying to keep his own demons under wraps, so he couldn’t react past trying to reassure his second personality that there was no reason to come out and play. “Do you think it will work?” His answer came through the door flying off it’s hinges. Their backs were pressed up against the wall as they were surrounded by no less than ten S.H.I.E.L.D. agents pointing assault rifles at them. Bruce jumped to his feet, trying to breath normally, as he said, “Hey, hey! There's no reason for us to be using those right now.”

“Dr. Banner, we need you to _stand down_ , we are here to contain a threat, please don’t double our workload,” an agent remarked, gesturing her gun towards Barnes. Bruce took a moment to shut down some of his initial fear responses which were setting off the Other Guy, who was by no means trying to calm- he’d later wonder if that was why Tony wanted him with Barnes- before responding to the agent, “If he were going to come out just because you blew a door up, he would’ve already. The only reason that the Other Guy would be coming out is if you start using your guns.” His heart rate must not have been as loud in the room as it was in the physicist’s ears, and his lies must have been stronger than he heard, because the main agent gave a signal and their guns lowered, but only slightly. Before either Bruce or the agent could speak again, Barnes was leaping past Bruce’s protectively outstretched arm and struck the first agent in a way that somehow knocked her unconscious. Agents ascended on him and suddenly, the small room had fallen into a clash of arms and legs, weapons forgotten as the fighting continued, ten agents against one super soldier. Bruce did everything he could to keep the Other Guy down as he pressed his back against the wall trying to not see the violence that wasn’t directed at him, but was still close enough for the Other Guy to witness.

Soon only two of the agents were standing, but before Barnes, or whoever was in his body, could continue to face off with them, they’d fallen to the ground unconscious, dropped by Steve and Clint. Barnes stood still, his head tilted downward, head cocked slightly as if listening to something. “Bucky?” Steve asked, trying to make eye contact in order to understand what had happened as Clint slowly made his way through the body’s to were Bruce, for lack of a better word, cowered.

“Bucky what happened?” Steve attempted. There was no response, so Clint called over his shoulder in a firm, but not harsh voice, “Soldier, stand down,” as he continued his trek toward the physicist. All motion stopped suddenly as Barnes’s body dropped to the ground, eyes rolling back into their head. Steve caught it before they hit their head, and Bruce flinched violently at the sight.

Footsteps rounded the hallway as everyone in the Hulk-Out room waited. “Are you okay?”’s ricocheted off the walls coming from and directed to everyone.

Tony zeroed in on Bruce, allowing Clint to check up with Natasha. “Hey, Brucie, we all good?” Bruce shook his head at the engineer’s question. He pointed weakly to the hallway, and muttered, “Other room?”

“Yeah, we can head to the one in the lab. Ready?” Bruce nodded despite himself and let himself be led to a second safe room as Clint and Steve carried an unconscious super soldier to the med bay.


	5. Chapter 5

The lights were too bright again, but this time it was sharper, artificial. That either meant something very bad or, well not something very good, but at least something safe. But he didn’t want to find out which it was, because the ratio of good to bad wasn’t exactly balanced. But after a few minutes of non threatening sounds surrounding him, he decided it couldn’t be that bad. He pulled himself into a sitting position and looked around the room. His locked on to a man in the corner, who was reading off his tablet. He looked up when he felt eyes on him, and gave him a quick smile, turning off the device, “Barnes right now, yeah?” Barnes gives him a look, “How’d you know?” 

Sam shrugged, “You didn’t scowl at me. It’s not hard to keep you guys straight after you’ve had some practice,” he paused, giving Barnes time to respond if he wanted to. “You want me to get Steve or someone else?” he asked after a moment. Barnes shrugged, looking around some more. He figured he was in a medical facility, but he didn’t know what building, what state what country he was in. Sam continued when Barnes didn’t respond, “I have to tell Samson that you’re up though, sorry.” Stark Tower then.

The door slid open, revealing Steve, and before either man already in the room could say anything, Steve asked, “Are you okay?” coming too close into his personal space, but he didn’t say anything. Samson had explained the concept to him a while back, but he still wasn’t sure how to act on it, how to tell people when they were too close, especially when people normally gave him too much space.

“I’m fine,” he replied, looking down and swallowing hard. Even if he’d been able to make eye contact, Steve was too close for it.

“Sorry, Sam made me step out for a minute to- it doesn’t matter…” Steve sat down inches away from where Barnes had begun to shrink into himself. “It’s okay,” he mutters, feeling his heartbeat rise in his throat. There was a lull in the ‘conversation’ until Sam asked, “Do you want to eat or drink something?” while he discreetly texted Steve that he was in Barnes’ personal space. Barnes shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, sounding like a sick puppy, “Because I can get you _an_ ything you need,” he rattled on, ignoring his phone when it vibrated. Sam interrupted before he could start off again, “ _Steve,_ ” he chastised, “You’re in his bubble and I’ll beat your ass if you don’t get out of it.”

“Oh! Right, sorry, I forgot, sorry,” Steve promised, jumping up, but not stopping his endless droning about Barnes’s self care.

 ***

”Do you know who authorized this?” Clint asked, tapping his pen against the table and glancing over his shoulder anxiously. “I’m not sure, there are lot’s of old S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are acting on their own right now, everything’s disorganized,” Coulson replied, double checking to see how secure their line was. When his old agents lived with one of the best hackers in the world, he had reason for caution. “Are you sure it’s even S.H.I.E.L.D?” Natasha asked, taking the pen from her partner’s hand and giving him a look while Coulson thought for a moment. “It’s possible. There have been a few instances we’ve seen where Hydra agents have used S.H.I.E.L.D. gear in order to confuse the public,” he supplied finally.

“Just don’t keep your nets cast that close to home,” Natasha requested, “I have a couple of _other_ parties I’m keeping an eye on,” she continued, she started to tap the pen herself, but Clint returned the favor it took it from her. “Don’t get too involved in this one, you know how this sorts of turf wars can get, and I know what _he_ assigned you to do before the info dump. Don’t get too involved here.”

“Just because I know both parties doesn’t mean that I’m _involved,_ ” Natasha reminded him, her entire demeanor calm. “I’m aware, I just-”

“We understand,” Clint interrupted, right as Tony came into the conference room. Natasha ended the call before word could be spoken and gave Tony a dangerous look as he asked, “Who is that?”

“No one,” Natasha answered, her tone clipped and sounding extremely pissed off. “Great. Glad I’m not the reason for,” Tony gestured listlessly towards the spy, “that,” he concluded, turning around and leaving the room. Natasha put her head into her hands, allowing her mask to drop when it was just her and her partner. “I’m not attached,” she said finally, looking up at the archer. “I’m just… in play.”

“I know,” Clint assured her, “You’re not compromised, you’re under conflicting orders, but both are _expired,_ ” he stressed, taking her hands out of her hair, “Rogers is the new leader on the block, if you need to listen to orders right now, then pick him. He’s the least biased out of the rest,” Clint reminded her. She made eye contact, and held it almost violently, “Except when it comes to Barnes,” she asserted. Her partner nodded, not breaking gaze, “Does that change things?”

Natasha closed her eyes, or likely the first time being the one to break eye contact, and breathed for a moment sorting through her information. “No,” she decided, “He’s not compromised, just biased,” she nearly asked. “Exactly, so we’re good?” Clint asked, searching her eyes. She nodded, standing up and walking to a wall, studying it. “Fury didn’t tell me to seduce Banner,” she announced, knowing her partner was wandering. “Okay.” She turned, and waited for his real answer. Her didn’t elaborate.

Another minute ticked by. “You knew Barnes?” Clint finally asked, because he knew she wanted to talk about it. “From… yes,” she nodded, sitting back down next to him, “But not Barnes, I’m… fairly certain the Soldier taught me hand to hand combat. I thought it was the Asset until I put it together. He never brought it up, so I didn’t either,” she made eye contact, borrowing Clint’s moral compass.

“You told Samson?” he double checked. Natasha nodded, “When he was briefing us to gauge how well we’d be around Barnes.” Clint nodded, “Okay,” he repeated, “We’re good?” His partner nodded.

 ***

“You once told me that the Hulk was a part of you,” Steve began. “And?” Bruce asked, not looking up from his microscope. He hadn’t heard the soldier come into his personal lab, but hadn’t reacted to his anxious voice. “And so it’s like Bucky’s… thing…?” he continued, not moving away from the door. Bruce clicked off the instrument and turned to face Steve, studying his face. Finally, he commented, “It’s different for everyone. I, to an extent, can communicate with him, but it’s like we’re almost holding hands mentally and the only way we can talk is through squeezing with different amounts of pressure. I don’t know how it works for most people with DID, I believe that the street we have is the only that exists because of the Gamma rays and everything. I haven’t really put that much thought into it scientifically.” he shrugged and turned away, giving the captain a moment to process and actually enter the room.

“So… you don’t think that Bucky can talk to the Asset even when he’s not… on top…?” He was extremely hesitant with this terminology, even though everyone else in the tower had mastered it months ago. “I can’t really know, Steve. I know that communication, for me, isn’t verbal and is just a feeling passed between us, but I’ve read that some people can have verbal conversations with their other personalities, or even just within their head. But it takes time to cultivate it-”

“They’ve had seventy years!”

“- and besides, they might not have the ability to communicate like that. And it doesn’t seem like they have recently, and…” Bruce seemed to continue the conversation in his own head for a moment, before looking up. “It’s a question for Barnes, Steve. That’s the best I can do for you.”

Steve swallowed, trying to accept the new information. He kept forgetting that his friend had changed, and that he was supposed to change with him. The soldier nodded, “Okay. Thank you, Bruce,” Steve said sincerely. He tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace and so he decided to leave the room before Bruce could ask.

He knocked on the door of the panic room, which had become more like a living room to Barnes than it’s original intended purpose. “Yes?” Steve had been told that each personality had a different voice, but they all sounded the same, they sounded like Bucky from the forties, just from different situations Bucky had been in. “It’s Steve. Can I come in?”

“I know who you are Rogers.” The door opened up, but Barnes was already sitting back on the floor, reading out of a manila folder. Steve tried to read what they said, but the man lifted them out of his line of sight. “What do you need?” he asked, closing the file and placing it on a shelf, and grabbing a bouncy ball and tossing it between his hands softly. “I just wanted to talk,” Steve almost smiled, trying to keep the distrust out of his voice, sitting down on the floor across from his friend. He wanted to believe that Barnes was still Bucky, but he still felt like something was off, like this was Bucky but only one or two things different.

“About?” Barnes asked, squeezing both his eyes shut and the ball in one hand for a moment before continuing his game of catch. Steve barely noticed, but still replied, “Bruce said that you should be able to communicate with the others,” he blurted out. Movement ceased on Barnes’s end. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for nearly a minute, the same way Steve had seen Bruce do many times. “I can’t,” he whispered finally, not opening his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you want to fix this, I know you want the other’s to- to go away, but I _can’t_ do that.” Still blind, he reached over and pulled a blanket over his shoulders and dropped the ball, instead focusing on the added weight and his breathing.

But it was too late, their body slumped down suddenly, shoulders ceasing their shaking, and being refilled with an entirely different demeanor. “Not sure what you were saying to him, but it would be better if you said it now,” the Asset said, wiping the now meaningless half formed tears from his eyes with cool indifference. “I- I’m sorry,” Steve stuttered, “I didn’t want-”

“You wanted him to stay, I’m aware of that much. We do… _journal_ with one another,” he frowned, shrugging the weighted blanket off his shoulders and putting it back in it’s place, and doing the same with the ball. He glanced at the file, but didn’t touch it. “That his?” he asked, nodding to the folder. “Yea- yes,” Steve said, reaching for it. The Asset swatted his hand away, “He wouldn’t want you to see this one.” He’d apparently gleaned the title from it.

“Fine, I’ll just… go upstairs, or something…” Steve forced a final smile, before getting up and leaving. The door shut and the Asset let himself frown, even though he could still feel the cameras burning into him. He didn’t know why, but he almost wanted Steve to stay, but he wasn’t sure what that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey team, if anyone wants to be a doll (or like, guy version of doll, idk what that would be, GI Joe action figure?) and tell me if my characterization of the Asset is consistent? Also same with Barnes? I feel like they've changed too much too fast for the passage of time in the story. Idk, you guys are the best anyways, sorry this chapter's kinda late (by like two hours, it's almost two in the morning here, but 100% worth it to get this chapter out, with the added bonus of watching NCIS for all night) yay team! love y'all, night or morning or afternoon or whatever, see ya! 
> 
> (the lack of grammar here is astounding, I apologize)


	6. Chapter 6

A couple days later, the Avenger’s resident doctor was sitting in his lab, waiting for some readings to come in from JARVIS, when instead, it was Clint. “Hey.” Bruce didn’t look up, or even indicate that he’d heard the archer. “Hey,” he repeated, sitting on the counter to Bruce’s right, “You want to go on a walk with me?” he asked. Almost a minute passed, before Bruce finished marking down some notes and turned off his monitor. “I can,” he studied his teammate's (kind of droopy, Bruce noted) face, “To your apartment?” he asked, Clint nodded and Bruce continued, “May I ask why? Or should I wait until we’re in, like, Malta where our conversation can’t be used against us in a court of law?”

Clint smiled, “No, I just want some company on my way to my super top secret apartment that apparently everyone knows about,” he joked, but his intentions were clear, he needed to talk and it couldn’t be where JARVIS could tell someone else. Bruce shrugged, “Nothing’s really going on here, so I’m good to come,” he answered, standing up and sliding his phone into his pocket.

They silently rode down to the ground floor, both on their phones, and made their way out into the cool New York morning. They made idle conversation, but it didn’t mean anything because neither of them could bring themselves to bring up the topic. Plus, Clint looked so tired, Bruce didn’t want to drag him into something that he wasn’t ready to talk about. It was a bit unsettling that one of the best marksmen and spies on the planet looked only a few moments away from keeling over and taking a century long nap.

Then everything hit the fan.

A woman came out of nowhere, and Clint had _actually_ keeled over, and someone was dragging his body into an alley. Bruce swallowed deeply, composed himself the best he could, and pushed back against a wall in the alley, eyes closed and lowering himself to the ground, not waiting for the assailants to shove him down and make the Other Guy more upset than he already was. There were hands on his, breath pounding down his ear. “You keep him down and we'll pull our punches with your friend.”

All Bruce could do was nod and hope to God that this wasn’t Ross again. Manhattan didn’t need to see the Hulk twice in the same year.

Besides, he didn’t want to kill everyone within the city limits, like he knew the Hulk would if he’d were under attack (even if he wouldn’t mind all that much if that meant the agents would die too). So, when the time came for him to get on his feet and _get in the fucking van,_ he gets the fuck up and he gets in the fucking car and he keeps his head down and tries to remember to fucking breath, hoping that JARVIS had picked up his heart rate spike and that it was enough to tell Tony and that they’d get out of the city fast enough so that he could get this over with and go ape shit, as much as he wished it could be avoided.

Except they never do. He keeps his knees up and his head between them and breaths and waits and worries because he doesn’t know where Clint is and hasn’t known for a while now and _stay_ fucking _calm_ because if you don’t you kill him and that’s a lot of weight to keep on your shoulders while you’re trying to keep from having a full blown panic attack. He can feel the gun probed against his back, and another on his side and there’s someone taking his wrists from from where they gripped his hair and harshly clicking them into a modified pair of handcuffs that may have had gamma inhibitors of maybe they were made of vibranium or something, but he didn’t have time to think about it because _there is a gun Right. There._

Then there were hands on again, either minutes or days later (because time doesn’t really happen when the Other Guy is clawing through his mind), and they were dragging him out of the van and pushing him onto the ground and he feels like he’s laying there forever as hands pat him down and he feels objects being pulled out of his pockets and hears crunching noises, but he can't really connect them to anything he's experienced before, and then he’s being pulled up and along again and people were talking, but he couldn’t really understand the words past, “ _Get him in the cage, goddammit!_ ”

He was breathing too fast, he knew he was, everything was happening too fast, he could feel his head pounding and blood rising in his ears and this _wasn’t good_ because he could still hear the city all around him and _where the fuck was Clint._ They jostled him towards a building, and then through it and people keep telling him to keep it down until there’s no one there and he’s alone, being watched in a cage _again_ and he pushes his back against the clear walls just trying to breath.

 ***

“Hello?” Pepper asked, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she continued typing up some emails to their partners in Beijing. “Hello, Miss. Potts. I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Barton and Dr. Banner have been taken into custody,” the garbled voice informed the CEO. She paused in her typing, before opening up the JARVIS command box, and writing:

→ _Trace this call_

_→ Get Tony on this call, don’t turn on his mic_

As she replied to the voice on the phone, “Who is this?” she asked, picking up the phone, wondering how this call got passed her secretary. “That’s not important, what is important is that we know that Stark is already looking into it as we speak, so I need you to get him to back down and to listen up. You can get your men back once you have returned the Weapon to us.”

“Sadly, I can’t do that,” JARVIS pulled a map that showed where the call was coming from. “I’ll tell you what, how about you let Dr. Banner and Mr. Barton go, and I’ll keep my boyfriend from killing you too badly,” she forced a smile even if no one could see her (it probably looked more like a grimace anyway), and ended the call, racing towards the elevator and up to the labs.

“What’s going on?” she asked, “What happened to Bruce and Clint?” Tony looked up from his monitor where she saw Bruce’s vitals and a voice decryption. “Working on that one,” he promised, then, after a moment, “He’s having a panic attack,” he rushed anxiously, looking to her for reassurance. “We’ll be there soon, JARVIS traced the call and-”

“I know, I know,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I just- JARVIS get Steve. Tell him what’s going on.” He started pacing the room, “I don’t know what to do Pep,” he admitted. She pulled him into a hug, “We’ll get this figured out. He’ll be okay,” she promised him.

“Yes, thank you,” Steve said, hanging up the phone, Sam following him into the lab. “Natasha,” he offered as explanation, “She’s going to check up on Bucky-”

“Barnes,” Sam corrected from behind him. 

“-Barnes for me,” he explained, placing the phone in his pocket. Tony and Pepper had since pulled apart and Tony was working on plans to get to Bruce from inside the building. “So Hydra wants Bu- Barnes?” Steve asked, looking around anxiously. Pepper nodded, “We can’t be sure it’s Hydra yet, but-”

“It’s not,” Natasha interrupted, the Asset in tow. Tony nodded in agreement, and squeezed his eyes shut for barely a moment, but for more than enough time to indicate how stressed he was, “It’s Ross,” he said. “We can still go,” the Asset offered, joining the circle, his brow furrowed, since he still got confused when it came to living freely and he still thought it might just be better for him to go back and become a pawn again. _It was fun while it lasted,_ one of the others thought, sometimes it took him too long to figure out which and just gave up, in a way that could almost be considered playful if it weren’t coming from one of them. “No, you can’t,” Steve argued, “You don’t owe anyone anything, Buck- you just need to- Nevermind,” he took a step back a collected himself, “Just stay here, it’s safer and there’s no need for you to go back.” The Asset thought for a moment, before deciding that he trusted Steve enough to fix this, but more in a way that he would trust a handler rather than a friend, even if he thought maybe he wanted the latter eventually, and really all of these thoughts just made him confused in the long run, so he nodded in order to shut them down.

“Okay,” Steve breathed out, “Thank you.” Tony switched gears immediately after that resolved, supplying, “Great, so getting Brucie and Barton away from Brucie’s literal worst enemy still needs to happen,” he reminded them. “We have the location, so if you,” he indicated to the Asset because no one was sure how to address the ex-assassin, “Could just go hang out on your floor for a couple hours, me and Sam can go find Bruce and Stevie can find Barton and Nat does all the intel-y stuff,” the engineer delegated easily. 

Everyone nodded, and filed into separate elevators to get to their floors to suit up, or wait anxiously in the interim. They met up in the garage and soon were into the New York traffic, hoping that the cabs would get out of their way fast enough to save their friends.

Finally, Natasha pulled the car to the stop and they approached the building, slipping into the doors, both front and back, and Steve immediately knocked out the first of the agents as Natasha dropped everyone came after her on her path to the security cameras on the front desk, which she immediately began to worm into it, navigating through the multiple cameras to locate the other’s. “Tony, you and Sam need to go down the left hall and find the last door on your right, go down two floors,” she guided them over coms. “Steve, you’re going to your right and then go straight, I’ll tell you which door when you get there.”

“Got it,” Steve sprinted down a hallway at her words, when he heard someone call, “Slow down, dude. I’m over here. No need to make such a fuss.”


	7. Chapter 7

Steve’s heart stopped at the words, and turned around slowly, hoping against hope that he wasn’t being tricked somehow. “Guys,” Steve spoke into his com, “I found Clint.” The archer had just come out of a vent, looking a bit amused and a bit bored at the same time. Steve felt relief surge through him and pulled the spy into a hug. He handed him a com, telling him “Don’t you ever do that again,” as Natasha immediately berated him, “You got knocked out by a _hired gun_ .” Clint could hear her eyes rolling. Before he could reply, she went on, “You let yourself get drugged _._ It was in your cereal, Clint.”

“First off, I thought _you_ were the one who drugged me. Secondly, I know, it won’t happen again,” he promises, seeing through her teasing. “Let’s go,” Steve clasped his friend on the shoulder, leading him back to where Natasha held down the entrance. He got ushered outside by btth of them, and sat in the van impatiently.

 

Meanwhile, Sam and Tony thundered down the hallway, throwing open doors in search of their resident physicist, suited up. After dropping down four or five levels, they threw open doors in search of the doctor, causing researchers and militants alike to scatter like mice. Finally, they found what seemed to be the only spot to keep someone as sweet as Bruce: a cage.

Tony burst into them room an his eyes locked onto the rumpled back pressed up against the wall furthest from the opening, breathing shallowly. His was hair grasped in his hands in a manner that didn’t exactly look comfortable.

”Everyone needs to either get the _hell_ out of here or tell me how to get this fucking _door_ open!” Tony screamed, all the scientists dissolving out of the room in fear, leaving him and Sam alone. The engineer began hacking through the control system, and the doors to the clear cage sprang open. Bruce didn’t react, he hadn’t experienced anything in awhile, as far as the heroes could tell, and was getting a little too close to a panic attack.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony murmured, pulling up his mask, but keeping on the rest of the suit. Sam stayed at the entrance of the room, watching the researchers flee and awaiting any new threats that could enter the room.

“I am walking towards you, right now, on October 13th, 2014. I’m here to take you home, it’s been less than a day since I’ve seen you. Now, I’m going to ask you to take one, deep breath, okay?” Bruce shook his head, but Tony was pretty sure it was in response to him, since he was practically holding his breath.

“On three, okay? One.” Bruce started shaking his head more vigorously, clawing at his skin. “Two.” Tony took Bruce’s hands into his own, but the doctor only began to try and slam his head against the cage wall. “Three.” He took a gasping breath before closing his mouth and trying to shove it all down the right tube. “There we go, Brucie. Let that settle down.” Bruce was still shaking, but he’d stopped trying to slam his head down, for whatever reason he’d had for that. “And now let’s go again. In on one, two, three. That’s it. Feel the adrenaline flowing out of your system?” Bruce didn’t respond, just worked on remembering to breathe.

“Ready to go?” Tony asked, almost half an hour later. Bruce shrugged, his eyes half open. The engineer pulled his friend to his feet. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, leading him over to where Sam scanned the halls. “Let’s get out of here,” Sam suggested. He had been relaying the happenings of the room to the others via the comms, and was anxious to go, considering what had been going on outside the facility. Bruce refused to let himself be supported, pulling himself out of his friend's grasp the second he was standing. He followed Tony out, looking exhausted, as Sam knocked out any stragglers as they went. Tony refused to stop talking their whole way out, afraid that if he stopped, Bruce would too.

 

“What the hell?” Tony barked, when he saw the Asset standing beside Clint by the SUV. “When did he get here?” he asked, taking Bruce by the shoulder and practically shoved him into the backseat of the car. He curled up into himself immediately, and Tony patted his head absentmindedly as he waited for his answer. “Right, Sam said you were off comms,” Steve reminded himself, since he was a bit distracted at the moment. “The Soldier convinced one of the others to get him here- _he,_ ” Steve nodded his head towards the alter, “won’t tell us if it was himself or not- and came into the building and started,” he weighed an idea in his head, “killing people. Natasha got him to let the Asset out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony asked, looking over to Sam. “You were a bit busy,” the ex-soldier rolled his eyes. Then, after a moment, “Let’s take these guys home, yeah? Steve, can you and Nat stay here and do some clean up?” He and Steve had an unspoken argument, before Steve sighed and turned to Natasha, “Yeah, let’s get started.”

Tony hopped into the driver's seat and Clint got into the passenger’s side, leaving Sam to climb into the way back and the Asset next to Bruce. Tony, Sam and Clint all exchanged a look, before driving away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that: a) this is late, and b) this wasn't edited. 
> 
> Also, c) it's super short 
> 
> d) (also sorry to that one person that I said I'd start adding Steve mental health stuff to this story, I swear it's coming up, it just wasn't included in this chapter) (sorry friend)


	8. Chapter 8

They s ettled down in the living room, Steve standing up front as everyone else settled into their groups on the couches, which formed three sides of a square. “What the  _ hell  _ happened back there?” he asked, pacing in front of the TV. “Why did you follow us?” he nearly yelled, but forced his volume back down almost immediately. 

“You should’ve stayed here like we told you to. We’re trying to keep you  _ safe _ .”

The Asset squirmed in his seat, insure of what he was feeling. 

“Steve,” Sam warned, dipping his head forward, where Bruce and Tony were sitting. The former looked like he was going to throw up and/or pass out. 

Steve sighed, “We can talk about this later,” he promised, “Everyone, just get some rest, we’ll talk about this later.” 

Tony pulled Bruce to his feet and the physicist muttered something in his ear, to which Tony nodded. They set off for the elevator. 

When Steve turned back around to find Clint and Natasha already gone, and Sam and the Asset waiting for him. “Sorry,” Steve mumbled, clasping the back of his neck. “Whatever,” the Asset answered, disappearing off into the elevator. 

***

“You’re honestly a dumbass,” Natasha informed her partner, sitting on the ledge of the building. “I don’t know why you’re allowed to go anywhere on your own.”

“I wasn’t ‘on my own’,” he mocked, “Bruce was there!”

“Bruce doesn’t count,” she corrected, “He has worse self preservation than you. At least he has the decency to not get drugged,” the spy added, swinging her legs over the edge. “That’s mean, Bruce is doing his best in a dying world,” Clint joked, sitting to her left, with his feet settled on the roof unlike her own. “Regardless,  _ he _ at least doesn’t the tower without telling  _ someone _ .”

The  _ you _ and  _ me _ went unsaid, but it was clear what she was really saying, how deep her worry went. 

“Um, actually he didn’t tell anyone,” Clint deflected, feeling Natasha’s concern drip over her, turning so that now both their legs were dangling off the edge of one of the tallest buildings in New York.

“Doubtful. He knows what he’s fucking doing more often than not.”

Clint pulled his partner over until her head was resting on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around her waist, “At least he has that going for him,” he mutters as they watch the sun go down, each afraid to let go of the other. 

***

Tony looked over a Bruce again, who had been staring at the same slide under his microscope for the past ten minutes. “You know I’m not going to let this go,” he said, walking over to his friend. He pulled Bruce’s hands away from the equipment and held them in his own, Bruce keeping his head down. “I know,” he muttered, trying to pull away, but unsuccessfully. “Why didn’t you let the Other Guy out?” Tony asked him, tugging his friend closer so he could keep him from trying to slip away. “That’s not safe, Tony,” Bruce protested softly, “I’m not going to-” 

“I know, I know. Only when it’s necessary and all that crap. You can’t put other people’s safety above your own,” Tony informed him, grabbing Bruce’s shoulders. “That’s not-” Bruce pulled away. “And even if you didn’t Hul- let the Other Guy out in the alley, you still could’ve done so in the facility, bud,” Tony ruffled his friend’s hair affectionately. “Do you understand that?” 

Bruce shrunk into himself, successfully away and stumbling back, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” Bruce whispered, “I’m sorry, I can’t-”

“I know,” Tony pulled his friend into a hug, “It’s okay, I’m the one that should be sorry. You just got home, I’m sorry, big guy.” The engineer closed his own eyes and rested his forehead on Bruce’s. “I’m sorry, but you have to stop being concerned about the lives of bad guys that kidnap him (about why Bruce didn't hulk out in the alley or facility and why he needs to stop being concerned about the lives of bad guys that kidnap you.”

“I wasn't out of the city, Tony,” Bruce reminded his friend, tugging away from Tony’s grasp and going back to his microscope. “I know that if you chose to change then you have control,” Tony retorted, stalking away, knowing he wasn’t making the situation any better considering how close he was to yelling. 

“I’m not here to make stupid risks,” Bruce muttered under his breath, picking at his skin under the table, in hopes that Tony couldn’t see it. 

***

The punching bag slammed onto the floor, and Steve grumbled something under his breath. “What?” Sam asked, walking over to the captain. When Steve didn’t look over, he continued, “Are you okay?” Sam got into his line of sight, taking the next reinforced punching bag from his friends hands.

“Why’d the Asset make them go?” Steve asked, turning away from Sam. “Steve-”

“Why would they do that? I’m just trying to keep them safe, and they won’t  _ listen  _ to me,” he said softly, trying to keep the increasing emotion out of his voice. He hugged his hands around himself, looking up to the ceiling, blinking the beginning of tears out of his eyes. 

"Steve," Sam attempted, trying to walk around to the captain's front, but Steve swung around first. "It's my fault, right? I'm doing  _ something _ wrong. I have to be," his breathing was picking up, "I'm- I'm not communicating well enough, or learning the difference between the- the three of them. I'm not-" he'd begun to choke on his own words a little. "Hey, Steve? Let's sit down okay?" Sam interjected, removing Steve's hands from where they now threatened to cut off any circulation below his chest. They both sunk to the floor. "I need you to breathe in time with me, okay?" Steve shook his head, now barely able to get a word out, his mind clouded with something he couldn't recognize. 

"Steve, remember when you told me about how Tony'd had a meeting with everyone?" he asked, taking Steve's hand and placing it on his own chest to help him feel what rate he should be breathing at. 

Steve nodded after a moment, beginning to take control of his mind again. 

"The one where he told you all about Bruce's stuff?" Sam didn't want to worry Steve by using the term mental illness while he was still coming down from what seemed to be his first panic attack. 

After another nod, Sam continued, "Tony had to learn how to be a better friend for Bruce, you understand that? It took Tony  _ months _ to be able to have that meeting. You haven’t even reached our first. You’re doing fine Steve, you understand that?”

Steve had finally recovered his breath and had pulled away from Sam, walking over to the other side of the room. “But everyone has a better handle on this than I do. Everyone knows the difference between the three of them and how to help when Bu- Barnes is having a panic attack.”

“A lot of us also have more experience than you do, Steve. We were trained to read people, we were raised in a time where mental illness,” he said the word carefully, not wanting to raise any of Steve’s alarms. Just because he seemed to get out of his panic attack quickly didn’t mean he was miraculously okay. His body might break down all of them chemicals that had been released in his bout of panic faster than most, but that didn’t make him invincible. “Is a a household term and not a reason to have part of your brain put out of commision. You have different experiences than us Steve. You might think they put you at a disadvantage, but that’s never stopped you before, has it?”

The soldier shook his head, “No, but I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” he gestured where he and Sam had been sitting moments before. 

Sam closed his eyes and weighed his options of how to respond that Steve’s silent request for help. They were rare, and even more rarely  _ that _ obvious, so he didn’t want to make Steve feel like he’d done something wrong. The man didn’t precisely have trust issues, but he did have issues with making everything his fault and/or problem, which was something Sam wanted to curb as soon as possible. 

“In that meeting Tony had about Bruce,” Sam started, trying to keep as much of this not-about-Steve as he could. “You told me he said that Bruce experienced panic attacks, right?” he asked. Steve nodded turning around to make eye contact with Sam. His hands stayed flat at his side, but his friend could see a slight tremor running through them at his implications. “I believe that’s what you just experienced.” Sam let it hang, let Steve make the next move, let Steve be in control. 

His jaw worked, “Is that… bad?” 

“Considering all that you’ve gone through? I’m surprised that’s your first one,” Sam teased lightly, turning to go grab Steve a water bottle.

“That’s not-”

Sam spun back around, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

***

The Asset walked into the ‘safe room’ on his floor, since that was the only one he and the others agreed was a good place, since it only had one camera and one entrance and no window. Plus it was sound proof and little toys for Barnes to play with. He shut the door behind himself, watching the camera for a while. “You’re only allowed to alert Rogers or Barton when I’m in danger of hurting myself, right?” he asked the AI. “Yes, sir,” JARVIS replied, “Do you have plans to hurt yourself?”

The Asset shook his head, “No.” Then, “You’re like Samson, you have all the confidentiality and privacy shit coming out your ass.”

“I cannot confirm, nor deny that I have an ‘ass’ sir,” the AI responded. “Just… can you keep people out of this floor for a bit?” he asked, looking around at the walls skeptically. “Yes, sir. Would you like me to lock this door?”

The Asset nodded, before closing his eyes and letting his body sink against the wall. New eyes bounced to life a moment later, and the Asset observed, out of control of their body, how Bucky reacted to the twenty-first century. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Steve mental health things! Also, I'm planning to start adding chapters every three or four days (so, knowing me, every four or five days) so get pumped. I have a lot of plot to start shoving down your throats, so get pumped! 
> 
> Also, if you have any prompts for other stories about these characters (preferably in this universe) I'd love to take them!!


	9. Chapter 9

That  night, all of the Avengers (and their posses) met up for dinner, a tradition established in the early days of the Avengers by Steve. They had dinner, taking turns cooking- in teams since Tony wasn’t allowed in the kitchen alone after the Banana Incident of 2012. 

So Barnes was walking into the dining room, following Clint, who began transferring food from the kitchen to the table as others joined them. 

“Hey, Barnes,” Natasha greeted, smiling softly. She pulled a bowl out of Clint’s hand and put it on the table. “Stop being a hero,” she muttered to him, leading him to sit down in his usual spot next to her. Soon nearly all of the seats filled up, but neither Tony nor Bruce joined them in the dining room. “I can go get them,” Clint offered, starting to stand up. “No,” Steve interrupted, “No, it’s- it’s fine,” he ran a hand over his face for a moment, and took a deep breath, “If they don’t come back to the common floors by tomorrow night, we’ll go check on them. But they’re okay for now, right JARVIS?” he asked. “Yes, sir, they are currently in Mr. Stark’s labs,” the AI replied, “Dr. Banner is asleep and Mr. Stark didn’t want to leave him alone.”

The whole table felt themselves relaxing at JARVIS’s reassurances. Except for Barnes, Natasha saw his shoulders pull together around himself, but he ignored it. “Then let’s eat,” Sam said, forcing a smile to reassure the others, who followed his lead and started filling their plates. Barnes felt the panic filling in his chest, for reasons unknown to him. The Asset was sitting at the brink of consciousness, watching Barnes, watching all the others. He was always co-conscious, refusing to leave the other inhabitants in his body alone, or rather, unsupervised. Barnes felt his head pounding, and his thoughts circulated.  _ He’s still upstairs because of you, he feels awful because of you. You should’ve turned yourself in when you had the chance at the facility. Everyone would’ve been safer. The Soldier would’ve kept us safe. _

_ “You know you can’t believe that,”  _ the Asset responded, “ _ This is the safest place for all of us, we discussed this, Barnes,”  _ he asserted. 

“ _ But-”  _ Barnes thought back. 

“ _ Hey, no. You need to listen to me-” _

They began talking over each other, and Barnes felt the body’s hands shaking as he began to dissociate. 

The Asset seized control of the body instantaneously, and stood up from the table, scrambling out of the room, while still managing to maintain all of his natural poise. “Barnes?” Sam called after him, standing up, not realizing that the Asset had clawed his way to the top. 

“What the-?” Steve, also jumping to his feet. “Do I-?” Steve looked to Sam for an answer. 

Sam ended up being the one to go after the Asset since Steve wasn’t really objective when it comes to Barnes. Natasha was kind of a bit too mean, Clint had just kidnapped and shouldn’t be on Asset duty and Bruce and Tony were in the lab, so it’s Sam. He’d been living in the tower because Steve asked him to for Barnes help and so going after was what he was there for in the first place. 

“Where’s he hiding out, JARVIS?” Sam asked as he entered the elevator. “The Asset,” Sam mentally thanked the AI for his expository words, “is currently going through Captain Roger’s desk,” he provided. 

“Shit,” the hero muttered, changing his destination. He’d assumed that the Asset would’ve taken the body to their panic room before passing out or letting Barnes on the surface to finish his panic attack. That was what had happened in the past. Now he was heading up to Steve’s floor, only one level up.

He stepped out of the elevator and found the Asset doing just as JARVIS had supplied, rummaging through Steve’s desk. “What are you looking for?” he asked, walking up to him slowly, like you would a horse so as not to startle it, and began going through Steve’s drawers too when the Asset didn’t respond. 

“What are you doing?” the Asset asked, frowning at Sam. “Same as you,” he said, continuing his search. ”You don’t know what I'm looking for?” It was definitely a question. 

“No,” Sam assured him, “But I could probably guess,” he added, moving on to the next drawer. The Asset didn’t stop looking, didn’t glance over. “What do you think it is?” he questioned, searching even fiercer than before. “Your file,” Sam supplied, dropping his hands and stepping away. 

The Asset faltered, “How did you-” 

“It’s the one thing that you don’t really have access to that would be in here,” Sam interrupted, making eye contact with Steve’s friend, who’d completely ceased his searching. “But it’s not. Well it  _ is _ , but it’s on his computer. And my computer. It was sent out in a mass email, I can pull it up on my phone if you want me to. Or I can give you my printed copy, but it has a lot of my notes on it, which could be distracting. I could print you off your own copy, but then you might think that I’m hiding something from you. And, yes, I’m aware that I’m giving you a lot of options right now,” he paused, softening his voice, “But that’s because I need you to know that you have options and that we weren’t hiding this from you, not really. We just didn’t know if you’d want to see it or not and plus it’s been less than a  month since you've been here and we didn’t want to overwhelm you. So, printed or computer copy?” he concluded.

“Printed.” He took a deep breath, then added almost nervously, something that Sam hadn’t registered in the Asset before. “I want yours.” 

“Okay,” Sam smiled, and thought the Asset almost mimicked it. “It’s in my room, you want to come with me or stay here?” he asked. “I’ll come,” he  sounded lost between skepticism and trust, unsure which one he was supposed to present anymore. “Okay, let’s go… You want to tell me what you’re looking for in it?” Sam added, holding the door opened as they left Steve’s office. 

“I can’t…” the Asset insisted, the hesitantly, “Sorry.” 

“That’s more than okay,” Sam promised him. They stepped into the elevator and rode in silence down to the guest room that Sam was staying in. “Here you go,” Sam handed him the file after pulling it out of his side table drawer. “I- goodbye,” he scurried out of the room and Sam let the Asset disappear to read go it somewhere else in the tower. 

He took the stairs back up to the common floor to report in with the other Avengers that were at dinner. 

JARVIS turned off the TV where they totally weren’t watching the live security footage and looked at Sam expectantly. 

“I think he’s not telling  _ us _ something,” he reported, “I don’t know if Samson knows what that is, or if it’s in HYDRA’s file on him and were just missing it. I do know that whatever it  _ is _ , is their business. Don’t spy on him, and please don’t press him for more information, okay?”

They all nodded, before going to finish eating. 


	10. Chapter 10

Sam— 

It’s important that someone in the tower that we have decided can be trusted knows the truth. We haven’t technically been lying— Barnes still doesn’t know— but the doctor doesn’t know. It’s understandable if you have to tell him, Samson, but Bruce is okay too. He’s got two heads inside his own like us anyway… 

But please  _ do not  _ tell Steve under any circumstances. This is important, and it’s best to keep this between us, so don’t tell Steve or Barnes, otherwise we might have to leave again. We need to gauge Steve’s reaction first before he can know. Sorry.

Barnes isn’t Bucky. He thinks he his, he has all of the important Bucky memories, he would have— has— nightmares about Zola. But Bucky created Barnes minutes after he fell off the train. The Asset was created when Barnes couldn’t handle Hydra anymore, and the Soldier showed up a couple years after that. Barnes doesn’t know that he isn’t the original personality, he doesn’t realize that he’s an alter. Bucky is never awake for his own safety, but the Asset’s always conscious with everyone else, he only sleeps when the body does. 

Please never bring this up, don’t tell anyone, don’t ask about this. 

—The Asset

Later that day, the Asset gave Sam the paper before scuttling away, a sour look on his face. The Falcon opened the notebook paper, noticing immediately after reading the Asset’s avoidance of using first person pronouns. But he forced himself not to analyze it because there were more important words on the page. 

Bucky, Steve’s Bucky, was still trapped in his body, and he was the only one that didn’t also live there that knew. 

“Hey, Sam?” 

He jumped at Steve’s words and turned around, folding the paper before Steve could read it. “What are you reading?” he asked skeptically, scratching the back of his head. “Nothing, it’s not important,” he lied, “Are you okay?” he continued, putting the letter in his pocket. 

“I, um, I just ran into… the Asset… Is he okay? He looked like something was wrong and,” he turned away and tried to smooth out his breathing. 

“Slow down, Steve, it’s okay,” Sam assured him. 

“Just, what did he give you? What did that say?” he asked, leaving Sam to wonder which he valued more: trust or truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's short, but I got it out early because I'm going to visit family this weekend. More coming up soon, but I had to get some of this exposition-y stuff out of the way.


	11. Chapter 11

“He didn’t give me permission to tell you,” Sam finally decided, keeping both of the warring ideals in tact.

“Sam,” Steve said wearily, his breathing back to normal, “I can’t do this anymore. The lies, the secrets,” the stress was cutting lines into his face. “I thought he’d  _ died _ . I thought I’d died. We both came back, but at what cost? Sam, he didn’t tell me what happened with Zola when we were in the Commandos. All I know is that he’d wake up in the middle of the night screaming. They all did,  _ I  _ did. If you know something that would help me understand what’s going on… You can’t keep me from being his friend, from caring. You can’t stop me from trying to help, Sam. I tried to ignore all the pressure on him before, he ignored all of the pressure on me and _ it didn’t work.  _ We both came back, just let us have this second chance, okay?”

“Steve, I can’t break their trust.” It was scary how on the nose Steve’s words were to the Asset’s letter, but Sam didn’t let that phase him. “I know you’re afraid for him, but you’ve got to trust me, this letter isn’t the worst that’s happened to all of you. It’s going to be okay. Just keep breathing for a little while longer, yeah?” he instructed, pulled the captain into a hug. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Steve mumbled, “If you say so.”

Nothing happened for a week after that. Things started to calm down, although Sam became more watchful of the interchanging personalities. Bruce came out of the recesses of the labs, letting the loneliness from his kidnapping wash off him. 

Clint and Natasha checked in with a certain S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and then left on a mission for an agency that didn’t technically exist without further notice. 

Barnes had wandered up to Tony’s lab on the day the spies were due back. Before, he’d avoided the massive amounts of technology contained in the labs like the plague. But now, he was acclimating to the modern tower and had a couple questions for the engineer. 

“JARVIS?” Barnes asked skeptically, turning over his shoulder to see if Tony was just hiding. “Is Stark here?”

“Mr. Stark is in Dr. Banner’s lab currently. You would be welcome,” the AI supplied. His omnipresence still made all of the alters uncomfortable, but Barnes had been working to move past it with Samson. “Oh, is it the… lab on his floor?”

“Yes, sir.”

Barnes gave the room one last glance before exiting, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach.  _ “You okay down there?”  _ the Asset asked him. “Fine,” Barnes muttered aloud, forgetting that the Asset was in his head and he could’ve just thought it back. 

They rode down in the elevator silently, not wanting to upset the other and in turn let someone else up on the surface. 

***

“Mr. Barnes is currently on his way to see you, sir,” JARVIS announced down in Bruce’s lab. They both glanced up at the ceiling, and the engineer replied, “Yeah, he’s cool.”

Then to Bruce asked, “Anything you want to put away before he gets here?” The physicist shook his head, “Why are you even down here?” he muttered to himself. 

“It’s called being friends. I haven’t seen you all day-”

“We ate breakfast together!”

“Irrelevant- and I wanted to see what was going on in the Brucie-sphere,” he explained, walking aimlessly around the lab as if to prove his point. 

“Please never say that again,” Bruce rolled his eyes, moving some Petri dishes into a freezer. The lab doors slid open and Barnes slipped in. Bruce nodded at him, looking over but not stopping his work. 

“Hey,” Tony smiled, moving to sit on top of a counter, “What’s up?”

“I had some questions about… I mean, we do, if you’re not busy,” his eyes began pinging off the walls, trying to get a handle back on this situation.  _ “We could’ve had Samson ask for us,”  _ the Asset supplied, his presence in the brain shifting around a little, indicating that he was fine with going on the surface. “I’m going,” Barnes felt unwarranted panic well inside of him before he was dragged under the surface. 

Although the three of them had been working on verbal communication with Samson, there were still moments where emotion is the only thing that could be processed and someone else jumped to the surface. 

***

“Get out,” the Soldier ordered, shoving Tony away from him. All he could remember was being in the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and his first assumption was that he had been captured. “Hey, man, Barnes came in here. He had some questions. I don’t know why you came up on the surface, but if you’re here, you don’t have to feel-”

“Shut up!” he commanded, backing Tony out of the lab. The engineer hadn’t stopped talking, but the Soldier had stopped deciphering what his words meant. “Soldier,” Bruce called from across the room, “Can you tell me-”

“Shut up! Both of you shut up! Get out!” he yelled at Tony again, closing the doors in front of the billionaire and locking them. 

“How can I help you?” Bruce asked. He wasn’t at risk of Hulking out, wasn’t even slightly anxious. All he wanted to do was to help his newest friend. He held his hands out to show he didn’t have any tricks up his sleeves. 

“Get- get in there.” Bruce had to admit it, the Soldier was extremely smart. Although he’d never been in this lab before, he was already completely aware of how his surroundings functioned and Bruce understood why his name struck terror in the Winter Soldier’s enemies. 

The Soldier had pointed to an enclosed shower that was there in case of chemical spills in the lab. Bruce climbed inside and sat down, feeling like he wasn’t going to be leaving for a while. He probably could’ve Hulked out if he’d wanted to, but he had some important experiments going on at the time and he didn’t really feel like starting over. Instead, he ended up kind of bored, watching as the Soldier reinforced the locks on the only entrance and the shower he was sitting in, as well as finding hidden cameras and microphones that he didn’t know existed (and Tony was going to be hearing about later). 

***

Tony had since left Bruce’s floor, and upstairs he had gathered the rest of the Avengers (and their plus ones). In the midst of their arguing, JARVIS interrupted, pulling the video feed on the TV. “The Soldier has requested to speak solely with Agent Barton. If he sees or hears anyone else in the call, he is likely to end all communications. He has also found all other recording devices inside the room and  _ dealt _ with them. The doors into the lab are extremely well soundproof, but everything else is under control in the room.” The last sentence was clearly meant for Tony. 

“Thanks, J,” he muttered, and the others responded similarly, clearing away from where the camera would be able to see them. 

They were all slipping in comms in order to stay in the loop before spreading out, trying to get any advantage they could on the Soldier, who was clearly not stable. 


	12. Chapter 12

The Soldier’s  fingers flew over the keyboard as he began hacking through the direct line Bruce had left open at his desk. He’d already opened up a majority of the cameras that surrounded the lab on the monitor. One of those cameras included a view of the vent, which was a surprise to Bruce since he knew Tony had gone a little overboard after the Mandarin attack, but damn, that was a bit much.

His Skype call had finally been answered, though, and Bruce saw Clint pop up on the screen and hoped to God that his computer’s volume carried enough for him to hear the conversation. 

“Hello, Soldier,” Clint greeted, his jaw tight, “I understand that you have one of my men as a hostage. I’d like assurance that he is unharmed.”

“I’m fine, Clint,” Bruce called over, rolling his eyes at how professional his teammate sounded. It wasn’t like this was the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility— he literally hadn’t even left his floor. Yes, he was prone to panic attacks, but it wasn’t like he had one every single time something out of the ordinary happened, every time he felt threatened. The Hulk had squeezed Bruce’s hand mentally, and Bruce had squeezed back, and they were both reassured that everything was okay. There wasn’t really any risk, but sometimes people that weren’t Tony didn’t see that. 

“Good to hear,” Clint replied. “Hope to be hearing more from you later,” he added.  _ Oh, right, _ Bruce remembered.  _ Tony makes everyone carry around comms for a reason. This would be it.  _ He made sure the Soldier wasn’t looking before slipping his in. 

Clint had since turned his attention back to the Soldier. “We’re wanting to make this a smooth transition for you. We understand that you tend to only take control of the body when there’s a perceived threat. Can you explain what that threat is at this time, or are you just diversifying?” The majority of  the words sounded like a direct quote from Sam. 

“Call off the girl in the vents,” was his only response. Bruce glanced back at the cameras and sure enough, Nat was huffing, before turning back around and crawling away. 

The comm’s that Tony had designed were ingenious because they each connected with a watch, which was either custom made or just upgraded versions of their own. The watches were nearly unaltered but now contained a small receptor on the side that, when activated, would receive and send Morse code.  _ H-E-Y T-E-A-M _ , Bruce tapped out. 

“Got it,” Clint replied, making no indication that he’d felt the vibrations. “She’s leaving now,” he promised, “Now, is there anything I can do for you? We don’t want anyone to get hurt, so how can I help?” 

Steve had appeared at the window, but the Soldier didn’t even glance over.  _ U G-O-O-D, _ someone, Bruce assumed Tony, tapped back. “Hey!” Steve shouted in. His words were barely able to make their way in the room since Tony had made it nearly sound proof. “Hey, open this door right now!”

_ Y-A P-L-A-Y N-I-C-E,  _ Bruce answered. He really didn’t want to damage their relationship with the alters anymore than they already had. 

“Open this door or I will break it down!” Steve continued, getting nowhere as the Soldier continued to type on the computer. It was clear that he didn’t care what Steve was doing, since as long as Bruce was being held hostage, Steve wasn’t going to do anything that would cause him to get hurt. 

“We can’t talk about this unless you respond,” Clint reminded the Soldier over Skype. “What do you want out of this? The Soldier grunted, but refused to respond with words, since he considered them pointless. 

“Bruce, tell him that were not trying to hurt him!” Steve yelled, turning a bit childish in his frustration.  _ S-T-E-V-E S-H-U-T U-P,  _ Bruce replied, shaking his head. 


	13. Chapter 13

“We  could-”

“We’re not putting a bomb anywhere near Bruce’s lab!” Tony exclaimed, feeling the oddity of being the ‘responsible’  one. 

“I get it. No explosives, I’m not seriously suggesting explosives I’m just giving us options to get us into the lab. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, got it?” Sam asked, pacing the length of the media room. He and Tony had set up shop there, trying to find a way to safely resolve all of this. 

“Got it,” Tony repeated, running a hand through his hair. “Is there anyway- Wait. I totally forgot.” Sam turned expectantly to the engineer. 

“Bruce’s entire floor is hooked up to a separate ventilation system, we can just send in some knockout gas and have Nat let us in from the other side!”

“Why is Bruce’s floor on a separate ventilation system?” Sam asked, “Not that I don’t love the idea, I do. But I’m a bit curious…” 

But Tony was already on a different wavelength, turning on his comm to transmit his voice. “Bruce, Steve, others— stop lollygagging and listen up. I’m going to send some sleepy gas into the vents with one of my bots and he’s going to knock out the people in the lab. Then, Nat, you can safely get in through the vents wearing a gas mask and let us all in. Great plan, right?” 

There were a few muttered agreements as Tony went to his private lab a level down, not caring what they actually thought. 

***

A couple minutes later, Bruce and the Soldier were unconscious and being carried out of the lab. “Not sure trying to rehabilitate these guys. All they seem to do is get people kidnapped,” Tony muttered to Natasha, all of them wearing gas masks while the gas was being aired out. “Yeah, but then Steve would get all mopey again, and do you want that again?” she replied, leaning against the elevator wall. “True,” Tony said, taking off his mask now that they was off the 76th floor. “But still. Steve’s putting too much into this. I know I said he needed a hobby after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, but he can’t just drop everything whenever something new happens with Barnes. The guy is probably better off living in a psychiatric hospital.”

“Saying that is like saying Banner would be better off in a psychiatric hospital.” Tony gave the spy a warning look. “You do the exact same thing with him. Bruce gets upset and you don’t get any work done for three days minimum.,” she scolded him, setting out of the elevator and onto her floor. 

“Think about it,” she called over her shoulder as the doors slid shut. 

Tony shook his head, but it was true. Both he and Steve had a problem saying no to their split-up friends. 

***

While Natasha and Tony were cooling off, Steve and Sam were on the medical level a couple floors up. “I’m not going to go to the bathroom, Sam. Every time I leave, he wakes up,” Steve protested, beginning to pace the length of the room. “That’s exactly why you should leave, then he’ll wake up,” Sam replied. 

Grumbling, Steve heeded his friend's advice, and like clockwork, life filled the body. 

“What-? What’s going on?” a timid voice asked. Steve came rushing into the room, causing Bucky to ask. “Steve, where am I? What happened?”


	14. Chapter 14

“What  do you mean Bu- Barnes? We’re in the med bay,” Steve supplies. 

“Who- who’s he?” he asked, frantically scrambling away from Sam, breathing heavily. “Someone tell me what’s going on?” he yelled, tears streaming down his face. He’d started hyperventilating, trying to push away Steve and Sam, before he was pulled under and the Asset was standing up. “What did you do?” he demanded. “Who was that?” He’s already walking out of the room, presumably to find a computer so he could watch the security footage, which he’d made a habit of recently. 

“Don’t you know?!” Steve shouted after him, turning to follow with Sam in tow. “No. No, that’s not how- I couldn’t- he wouldn’t let me get conscious with him.”

He was clearly flustered since he wasn’t thinking through all his words before he said them. 

“Slow down!” Steve gasped, “Both physically and talking-ally.” Everyone stopped and Steve continued, “You’re telling me that you can be… conscious when the other’s are the ones,” he glanced at Sam to confirm, “on the surface?” Both Sam and the Asset nodded, and the latter responded, “I’m supposed to be able to observe the world even if I’m not in control. I’m supposed to help the others make informed decisions,” he sounds like he’s repeating himself a reassurance he’d been told long ago. “They can ignore me, they can block me out if they try hard enough, but I’m supposed to be able to help.” He turned to Sam, “Why wouldn’t he let me help? Who was on the surface?” he demanded, looking completely lost. He’d stopped trying to get away at the very least, but he wobbled on his feet a little. 

“We don’t know who that was,” Sam tried to explain while Steve said, “Is it possible that there’s another personality in there?”

The Asset stopped swaying. He dropped his gaze and his breathing sounded stifled. 

“Was that someone else? Why haven’t I talked to him before?” he demanded. Sam help the Soldier back, and quietly asked, although not enough for Steve not to hear, “Do you want me to tell him?” 

“Tell me what?” Steve nearly yelled, “What’s going on Sam?”

The Asset immediately shut down at that. He dropped to the ground and pulled his knees up so that he could rest his head on it. He was clearly listening intently to his surroundings, but his eyes were shut and he was breathing in very deeply. 

Sam sat down beside him, I’m going to call Samson, okay?” he asked, not expecting a response. “Steve’s going upstairs, now, got it? Clint’s coming down too because we know you feel comfortable with him. Once they get here, I’m going to get out of their way.” He kept up a stream of words until Clint was switching places with him and Samson was letting him onto the elevator. He pulled a comm out of his pocket finally, to hear Clint on the other end saying, “ _ \- stand up now. _ ” His voice was firm, which Sam knew the Asset appreciated. He was born and raised in an environment where he was always told what to do, and in the moments in between, he was forced to be unconscious, frozen alive. The Asset was getting better at making choices and being a part of group activities, even if Sam knew that a lot of them were constructed just so that the personalities would feel safe. 

“ _ -Barnes on the surface help you?”  _ Clint asked as Sam exited the elevator. Through the comms, Sam could hear the Asset reply, “I’m not letting them up. The Soldier fucked up, Barnes fucked up,  _ he fucked up. _ ” It was unclear if the Asset had just reverted back to referring to himself in the third person or if he was referencing Bucky. 

_ “Is he still in the hallway, Clint?”  _ Steve asked, and Sam could practically hear him pacing the living room.  _ “You ready to leave the hallway?”  _ Clint asked in response.  _ “Tell Rogers to fuck off,”  _ the Asset gasped out, but Sam heard footsteps over their channel. 


	15. Chapter 15

The  Asset stayed on the surface for the next three days, not really talking to anyone, sticking to himself. He’d walk the hallways every once in a while, muttering to himself at times. When the Asset was found like that, someone, usually Sam or Clint, would lead him back to his floor, encourage him to sleep or each something, but he ultimately wouldn’t- or more likely, couldn’t- and since he refused to let Barnes on top, there really wasn’t any way to help the man. Then Samson would appear since he’d been staying at the tower on Tony’s payroll as the Avengers’ psychiatrist. He would sit down with the Asset, and they would talk about when keeping secrets is okay and how trustworthy certain Avengers were and why he thought Bucky needed protection. 

_ “I just feel like… every time I let Barnes or Soldier on the surface, they mess up. They take Banner, hostage, they go to a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, they try and contact-” the Asset cut himself off, standing up and walking to the window. “So how can the others gain your trust?”  _

_ He shrugged, studying the traffic. “There are no missions, there are no orders. We used to have a system, everything used to make sense, but now it’s just… trying to be Steve’s equivalent of normal.” He turned back to Samson, “We’re not normal.”  _

_ The doctor smiled softly, “I agree, but I also think you owe it to yourself to let the others try out the world. Barnes clearly likes being around some of the Avengers, like Dr. Banner, and the Soldier had been taking a liking to Ms. Romanov. I think you owe it to them, and especially to Bucky, to let them experience the world, let them form relationships. They’re valid people in the same way that you’re a valid person. You don’t get to control them the way you are now. I understand that you’re scared, that you crave control, we’ve talked about why, but I think the others deserve a chance to be themselves.” _

_ The Asset continued to look through the glass until finally he closed his eyes and turned back around. “I don’t want them to get hurt,” he ghosted forward, going to sit down. “I, I couldn’t protect them… before. I’m not trying to. To hurt them.” He fully faced Samson, “I’m hurting them?!” he asked suddenly.  _

_ “I’ve only really talked to Barnes about this, and I can’t break his trust by telling you how he feels. Why don’t you write him a note for the next time he’s on the surface, and let he be alone, don’t stay conscious with him? You need to rest too, and I suspect he won’t be doing much more than eating,” the doctor provided, “You’ve lived with him for a very long time, he doesn't always need to be supervised. He needs your support, yes, but not to be mothered, do you understand that?” he asked.  _

The Asset shook his head a little but didn’t forget what the doctor had said. And finally, the next day, the pure exhaustion overtook him, and Samson told him that the body needed rest and to let Barnes on the surface. 

***

“Is he okay?” Barnes asked, blinking around as he woke up, sitting on the couch. “It’s been a while, right?” He looked around for a calendar but didn’t see one. His eyes landed on the note, which had his name written on top. “He’s been on top for three days,” Bruce replied. Before he’d given up his spot, the Asset had requested that Bruce was there when Barnes woke up. 

“He’s upset,” Barnes said thoughtfully, “You know why?”

“He, um… the Soldier got upset, we can get into it later,” he holds out a water bottle, “Right now we need to focus on keeping you from getting sick. I don’t care if your body is all science’d up,” he muttered the last part under his breath. 

Barnes slowly drank the water, looking at Bruce, but not making the eye contact that he clearly craved at that moment. “I’m going to make you an omelet, what do you want in it?” Bruce asked once Barnes put the lid back on.

“I don’t care… What do I- you normally put in them?” he asked, fidgeting a little bit. Bruce could tell he wanted to get up, move around, maybe even help make the eggs but wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow. “Come take a look,” the physicist prompted, “I usually just put vegetables in mine, but you might want some ham or sausage. I’m going to put cheese in yours,” he started cracking eggs as he spoke, “Because I think you’ll like it.” 

He slid a bag towards him, “Try this,” he requested, “If you want,” Bruce amended, not wanting it to sound like an order. “Do you want me to put it in your omelet?” Bruce asked after a minute, turning back around. Barnes shook his head, “I don’t think… I like,” he paused for a second, trying to think of the right word. 

“Dairy, I think it hurt…” he seemed very hesitant to be bringing this up as if he didn’t want to upset Bruce. “That’s fine. Is it the taste, or do you get stomach aches?” he asks, pulling the cheese back in the fridge. 

Barnes thought about it for a moment, “The second one,” he finally decided on. 

“I’ll talk to your doctor about it,” Bruce offers, putting some bell pepper and parsley into the pan. “If you want me to.” 

“Will you tell me what happened now?” Barnes asked instead, sitting down at the island. 

“This is probably something you should talk about with Dr. Samson-”

“I don’t need Samson to find out what they took over. What happened?” he repeated, getting more firmer with his words. 

“I mean, yeah, um, long story short, you came into the lab like three days ago, right?” Barnes nodded, which a face that said something along the lines of, ‘I’m not an idiot’. 

Bruce continued anyway, “Something freaked you or him out, it’s unclear, and then he pulled you under, took me hostage, which was sort of annoying, but whatever.” Barnes carefully didn’t react. “Then someone said that we should knock the Soldier unconscious. Natasha did that, and then…” he shook his head, breaking eye contact, “You know, Samson should at least be here, or something. It’s not really that-”

“Just tell me what’s going on in my fucking head, because the other people in it sure as hell won’t right now!” Barnes barked out, before he shook his head, “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “That was out of line-”

“No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t and you know that, and if you don’t then you damn well should by now.” Bruce shook his head, “Barnes, are you aware that you are- and I say this with knowing how it might feel to not know- but are you aware that you are one of four people living in your head?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact of the day: I'm actually the worst person every, but it's (not) okay, because I'm updating again and this entire book will (probably) be finished by next Tuesday (or more likely Wednesday). 
> 
> Apologies, but I'm on it, finishing this story!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware, towards the end the usually mild language gets pretty bad, so if you don't like it... idk replace it in your head.

Barnes  gripped the table, his knuckles turning white. “ _ What? _ ” he forced out. 

“Like I said, we really should’ve had Samson- Shit, I’m sorry, you need to sit down,” Bruce rambled. 

“He’s going to-” 

“Then let’s definitely sit down, yeah?” 

Within a few moments, the Asset was pushing to his feet. “You should’ve got Samson,” he said after a while. 

"I tried-"

"I can fucking hear him in my own fucking head right now and he's having a fucking panic attack because you didn't have the foresight to get his fucking therapist because he's learning that he has another fucking person in his fucking head!"

"I-"

"I should've done it my fucking self," he sighed, leaning against the counter. "I should've written a fucking letter, I should've been fucking talking to him, but I didn't because some fucking shrink that I'm still not sure doesn't want to pick apart our brain!" The Asset’s jaw worked for a moment after his outburst. "He- I, everyone knows there are four.” His eyes are scanning the room.

“Yes," Bruce replied, motioning for him to sit. 

“And they’re mad.” It wasn't a question.

Paranoia lit up through his eyes, and he took a heavy breath. There were a couple tense minutes, before the Asset asked, "Can we go to your lab?"

Bruce smiled lightly, "Yeah. Yeah, let's go," he replied, "I'm going to get some work done if that's okay."

"I don't care."

The took the rest of the elevator ride in silence and true to his word, Bruce started pulling slides out of his newly cultured bacteria to study under a microscope. 

He marked some data down on his computer before the Asset spoke up again. 

"You don't have to get Samson."

"Okay. Thanks, I think." 

The corner of the Asset's tugged upward at the edges at Bruce's words. "He's going to freak out- you have the answers he needs?"

"If I don't then nobody does... Thanks really, for trusting me."

"I would say anytime, but..."

"I understand," Bruce lowered his eyes a bit, smirking to himself. 

A minute later, Bruce watched Barnes crash to the floor. 

"Hey, hey. Let's sit up a little bit, okay?" Bruce asked, pulling Barnes back onto the couch.

"I, um, I can go- I can be... conscious when the others are. I didn't tell anyone- I'm sorry, I know I should've- said something before. I should've. I'm sorry, I don't know," he announced after a while, still breathing heavily. 

"That's okay," Bruce soothed, rubbing his back, "Just keep breathing with me," then, after a moment, "Do you want a weighted blanket?" he asked. 

Barnes nodded, still trying to keep his leftover panic at bay. 

"Here you go," he whispered, draping the blanket from under the couch they were sitting on over Barnes's shoulders. 

"I- I was conscious with him earlier," he said, "He- he said that he was sorry. I didn't know that. That I wasn't-

"I'm not real. I was never fucking real. I sprang out of Bucky's fucking head because he couldn't go on! He fucking left me to- to- to deal with Hydra! He let them fuck with my brain! Left me to create two more of them- or. Or maybe he made them, but didn't feel like telling me! He- he fucking. He fucked me. He fucked me and. And now I don't have anything fucking- I don't. I can't fucking."

“Do you want me to get anyone for you?” Bruce asked finally, knowing there were no real words left to respond to that. 

“No, I don’t fucking-” he cut himself off, shaking his head. 

“At first, I didn’t… think the Other Guy- the, the Hulk- was a different… entity. I thought that he was just this- this bodily transformation, but not a person. I’d never met him before, I still really haven’t. But we can almost talk now… 

“Tony, um. He thinks that. That the Hulk wasn’t… new. That he was from. From when I was a kid and all. If that’s true, and some days, I’m pretty sure it is. Then. I know where you’re coming from. I didn’t know there was someone else in my head either. You just happen to be the protector and I just happen to be the protected. We’re both valid people, even I can forget it about myself sometimes. Feeling like you’re second best or. Or like a photocopy might not change. But at least for now, you have a chance to meet the original piece, if that’s who he really is. Maybe there are thousands more people living in there and you’ll never meet them all. I think there might be more of me that I’ll never be able to find, so feel lucky that you’re getting to be a part of this now. Before it’s too late.”

Barnes stayed silent for a while after that. He stood up, shuffled around a little bit. Then he turned sharply and faced Bruce. He appraised his face, then commented, “Steve would want to know that I’m on top.” A response to Bruce’s earlier question, but he hadn’t really expected anything else. 

”Do you want him to?” Bruce asked instead. 

Barnes shrugged, sitting back down, “He can, I just. Don’t want to talk to him right now…”

“Okay.” 


	17. Chapter 17

“And…  We’re… done!” Tony beamed, saving the finishes touches of the file. 

“Yeah,” Bruce agreed, leaning his head back. “Yeah,” he smiled, nodding to himself. 

“You want to show it to Barnes or- JARVIS, who’s on top right now?” Tony asked, jittery from all the coffee he had consumed in the past forty-eight hours.

“The Asset, sir. He is currently with Dr. Samson and Mr. Wilson in the gym,” the AI replied. 

“No kidding,” Tony snorted, “You wanna get Samson, Rogers, and Wilson up here when they have a free moment?”

“With what reasons, sir?” 

“I don’t care. You can tell them that I’m planning on blowing up Aruba for the weekend to get out of going to a board meeting. Which reminds me, I still need to get out of going to that board meeting,” Tony prattled on, opening up his Twitter feed on one of the Holo Fields. 

“You’re not getting out of the meeting. I’ve been making up trivia questions to keep you busy for the past three days. And I’m getting on a plane to go with you, so no, you’re not getting out of this, Tony,” Bruce reminded him. Said man stuck out his tongue, “You’re no fun.”

“You won’t let me stay because of Austrailia, so I’m getting on a plane and I’m bringing noise canceling headphones and were going to sit at too long tables and you’re going to act like you’re paying attention. There’s no getting around it.

“I’m printing off the blueprints now,” Bruce finished, completely turning the conversation around, “And JARVIS? Let’s all meet in the dining room, yeah? I feel like that’s a better place to talk about this. Also, obviously invite whoever is on top of the body when everyone has a free moment.” He turned away from the printer, “What?”  he asked, at Tony’s smirk.

“Oh, nothing…” Then, before Bruce could repeat himself, the billionaire rushed out, “It’s just that you look super cute when you get all bossy.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

“Whatever yourself. Make the trivia hard, there’s like a whole week of meetings and I don’t want to run out of questions.”

“Don’t worry,” Bruce smiled, “They reach over  _ categories _ .”

JARVIS interrupted their banter, “Sir, everyone will be free within the next ten minutes, if that’s a good time.” 

 

“So you want... to redesign… reconstruct our floor,” the Asset said finally, glancing between Tony and Steve. 

“Basically, yeah. We made the plans a while back before we met the Soldier for the first time,” Bruce confirmed, “But that’s beside the point. On topic, though, we do want to run the plans over with the others.” 

The Asset didn’t respond to that, instead studying the wall.

“But you don’t have to do anything about it now. We just want you to pass the information on, right now,” Tony added softly. 

“Okay,” he replied, shifting slightly in his seat. 

“We’ll leave the plans with you guys, any changes you want to make, JARVIS can walk you through how to do it on the paper. We’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” The two scientists got up after Tony finished, leaving the other men alone in the dining room. 

It took a day, but the Asset agreed. “You can meet with Barnes whenever wherever. Neither of us really care, but we both think that it would be better if you spoke with Soldier in one of his,” he gestured to Bruce, “safe rooms. We think that if he were in the one on… our floor he’d find a way to hurt someone. He’s in… timeout basically right now. We don’t really feel safe with him on the surface right now, if you could give us a week for him, I’m trying to get him to be conscious with either of us right now…” 

“That’s… yeah, okay. I understand where you guys are where coming from. Just tell us when you’re already, and we’ll get everything together,” Bruce promised him. 

“When are we going to be talking to Bucky?” Tony asked, bluntly. 

“We, um. It- it’s our job to protect him, and letting him up isn’t doing that,” the Asset replied, standing up to go look out a window, clearly not wanting to talk about the oldest, but still newest personality. 

“And we respect that,” Bruce assured him, giving Tony a pointed look. “If you think it’s best to keep Bucky on the inside, then we think that’s a valid choice. We know that you’re working with Samson on letting Bucky out in smaller increments of time, and everyone in the tower is really proud of you guys. It’s all up to you, man. You know that,” he smiled. 

 

“That’s about it,” Tony nodded, “Anything else you have questions about?” he asked the Soldier, who’d mostly stopped paying attention a couple minutes ago, but sat back on the floor when Tony said that. He shook his head, studying the paper once again, before shaking his head a second time. 

“Okay,” Bruce smiled, glancing over at Samson, “I’m going to head upstairs. Thanks for visiting with us.”


	18. Chapter 18

A week  later, Tony, Bruce, and Pepper were in California for the much-hated board meetings when the former got a phone call from Sam. 

“Hey” Sam started, his voice sounding as if it were coming through speaker phone, “So Barnes came up to Steve and me earlier.”

“And he said something that concerns me..?” Tony prompted, motioning for Bruce to come over to the balcony with him. 

“Yeah?” Bruce asked as Tony his phone on speaker. Sam continued, “He said that he and the Asset were talking and they think that it’s okay for you guys to talk with Bucky about the room thing.”

“We’re on our way,” Tony announced, getting ready to hang up.  Bruce took the phone out of the engineer’s hand. “We have three more days of meetings left, so we can be home and meet with Bucky Saturday afternoon at the earliest if that works for them,” Bruce corrected, giving Tony a pointed look. 

“Okay, I’ll pass the message along, and text you some details that the two of them are working out currently,” Sam replied, “See you guys then.”

“Yeah, bye,” Bruce answered, ending the call. 

“Bruce what if Barnes and the Asset decide that it’s a no go Saturday and that today is our only chance?” Tony complained, following the physicist back into the hotel. 

“Well, then we wait a little longer. We’re finishing all of these meetings before we leave,” Bruce said, closing the door behind door behind themselves. “Pepper, Tony’s trying to run away to New York,” he announced loudly when he saw the CEO in the kitchen. 

“Handcuff him to the bed,” she answered lightly, pouring herself a glass of wine. 

“Not cool! You guys are mean,” Tony slumped down at the kitchen island. He stared at the coffee mug that Bruce had slid in front of him a few moments before, until he asked, “How can I make the meetings go faster?”

"Well, each meeting has built in  _ Tony’s-Acting-Weird _ time,” she indicated for them to follow her into the living room. “So if you can cut down on that, then I’m sure we can speed up the rate of the meetings. Everyone here knows that times are subject to change,” Pepper informed him, sitting in between the two men. Tony thought a moment, leaning into her side, “So what you’re saying is that you guys plan on me fucking around?” 

“Yep,” Bruce responded, “And we have twenty minute buffer period between each meeting no matter what, so that we don’t overwhelm you with sitting still and thinking about stocks and shit like that.”

“You guys don’t have to treat me like an ADD twelve year old, you know,” he pouted, hugging his arms around himself and moving away from Pepper. 

“We’re not so sure about that, love,” Pepper smirked. “Come on,” she continued, after he finished his drink, “Time for bed,” she reminded him. Tony jumped to his feet, “It’s nine o’clock!” he protested, but still followed her to the bedroom.

“Yes, and you’re going to sleep because our first meeting is at six in the morning and you’re cranky in the morning.”

“You’re not coming?” 

Pepper smiled slightly at his words, “No, I still have some work to do.”

What about Bruce?”

“I’ll be in there in a couple minutes, sound good?” Tony shrugged at Bruce’s reply, “You guys are mean.” he answered. 

“Goodnight,” the other two replied, leaving him to the bedroom. 

Pepper kissed Bruce on the forehead, “Go to bed,” she whispered, sending him off with her touch. 

 

That next Friday, the trio was boarding a plane at three in the morning. 

“I can’t believe I let you talk us into this,” Pepper sighed, taking a seat. 

“We finished the meetings and you said we could go once we finished,” Tony teased, “Plus, there is nothing but a bed where Bucky’s room is supposed to be and you know how I hate empty rooms in the tower.”

“Believe me, we’re aware,” Bruce rolled his eyes, “And we really didn’t think you would take us seriously about speeding them up,” he groaned, slumping down in his chair. 

“But look what Sam texted me!” Tony protested, showing it to the two of them. 

_ They decided that it’s safe to let Bucky up, but only if every interaction is recorded and you’re probably only getting like five hours. If the Asset senses too much distress, although he claims that he can’t be co-conscious with Bucky, he’s going to pull the plug,  _ it read.

“Yes, dear, we’ve seen it before. Multiple times,” Pepper replied. 

“Let’s just go,” Bruce sighed, mentally preparing himself for the plane ride. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst, this chapter sucks, and is short, but it's the last one and I can't keep trying to rewrite it. I apologize that it sucks, and the ending isn't really fulfilling, but I promise that I'll be updating a lot more in the next week because finals are over. I'm sorry, again, but this is the last chapter and I am so drained from writing this book.

“Welcome home,”

Steve greeted, smiling weakly as Tony, Pepper, and Bruce stepped out of the jet and onto the roof of Stark Tower. Tony glanced around, seeing Steve’s cautious optimism and Sam’s barely concealed worry, and he commented, “Yeah, I could get behind that,” walking over to clap Steve on the back as he leads everyone into the tower. At Pepper’s questioning look, Tony continued, “The whole  _ home _ thing.” She smiled at the addition but didn’t comment. 

“So, just to go over everything,” Sam interrupted, “You and Bruce are going to be in the safe room on their floor, which is a change, but everything else is set up there. There’s a camera that the Asset picked out, so no snarky comments on how old the tech is. The Asset’s in there right now, please be nice to him, he’s been trying to change his mind all day,” Sam explained, leaning against the back of the elevator. 

“What is it, like a Sony ‘o’ five?” Tony joked, ignoring the rest of Sam’s instructions.

“I’m not going to comment on that,” Sam replied easily. 

The elevator came to a stop, and everyone let out a deep breath to prepare themselves. Steve felt a steadying hand on his back and glanced over to see Bruce giving him a fortifying smile, before passing him. The captain sighed a little, so drawn out from all the time and effort into making Barnes and the Asset feel comfortable. To letting him see his friend again, let alone  _ talk _ to him. And now Bruce and Tony were going to get more access to the man than he’d had in days. 

Steve stepped out of the elevator and forced himself to breathe, as he listened to the Asset asking Tony a question.

“You’re not going to try and make him upset, right?” The alter paced the floor as he talked, stopping every so often to take a closer look at a basket full of silly putty or fuzzy pillow as if it was a threat to Bucky’s safety. 

“Of course not,” Bruce promised, sitting across from him. “We’re all working with him, trying to make him feel safe and wanted.”

The Asset turned his head thoughtfully, before nodding, “I guess then there’s no point in stalling.” He sat down on the ground, leaning his head against a back wall and within a minute, a new person was on the surface. 

 

Steve smiled softly as he watched Bucky get acclimated to the room he was in as Bruce and Samson explained the situation. Bucky watched Steve for a while, offering him a small wave before he started to collaborate with Tony and Bruce. 

After all of the insanity of the past few months, of learning more and more about his friend and his experiences. He’d learned that his friends, his family, didn’t always and couldn’t always be okay. Maybe he could handle all of this. Maybe Bucky could be okay. Maybe  _ he  _ could be okay. 

And that sounded more than okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> All of the translating is done by Google translate and most of what I know about mental illness is from research and NOT personal experience, so if I'm portraying something wrong, please forgive me!! 
> 
> All notes or corrections are welcome and will be taken into account! Thank you!!


End file.
